Change
by Dolce-tasie
Summary: She just wanted things to change. In a desperate attempt, she had jumped straight into an unknown time and world. Change is coming, and she couldn't help but hope again. But hoping is such a bad habit. (OC-centric, time-travel fic)
1. Prologue

A/N: First try. Would have never gotten around to writing it if not for this plot raccoon jumping about in my head.

Enjoy, please.

* * *

I once lived in a strange world.

It was the thirtieth century.

Unlike what most people thought in the twenty-plus century, no, we didn't live underwater (though there _were_ underwater cities...), and no, aliens didn't take over Earth or anything.

It's a long story, but the human species survived and we're still technology-savvy.

No, I mean seriously, people nowadays can't live without technology. Everything is now run by mechanics and robots. Nope, you can't survive by being a chef or receptionist now. Robots cover those. These days, mechanics, technicians and scientists earn the most.

People don't have to lift a finger to do anything. Rubbish bins that can move, vending machines that can speak, robot chefs that can whip up wonderful meals... Heck, currency isn't even needed. You just need an issued pass from the government to prove that you're a resident of the state, and everything is free as long as you scan that pass...on anything, actually.

I hate this life.

Technicians and scientists practically run the world. Everything we have now, are all thanks to them. But, that's only up the front. The ugly, ugly truth behind it. No one knows. Or cares, whichever.

How do you think the scientists made it? Poof, and the invention just appears?

Haha. No. Of course they'd have prototypes. And who better to test them on than to use orphans picked off the streets? They don't cost money, and they don't ask questions. Perfect experimental subjects. Just disguise the child (or children) as one of your own, and your neighbours wouldn't even suspect a thing. Besides, no one would even think that a respectable scientist would do inhumane things like putting their own child through dangerous experiments to test their prototypes on.

My name is Juliette, and I am one such child. I am fifteen years old, and am very well aware of the dark truth of scientists these days.

Thousands, maybe even millions, of poor innocent children died under these experiments. I survived, unfortunately, and had to watch many other children who came my 'father's' way get tortured by his so-called prototypes, and die.

So little of them survived.

Why did I survive?

I was so sick and tired of all of this. Pretending to be normal in the day, and an experiment at night. No friends, no anything.

My life is like a lie. Why can everyone else live in comfort, while I am the one who bears the burden to make their lives better?

I really hate this life. This world.

So when I saw a chance to change it all, just a slim, slim chance...

I took it.

* * *

Juliette sighed in momentary bliss.

The clouds looked fluffy, and everything looked peaceful. The sky was blue, and the clouds drifted in the sky peacefully in small groups.

Her mind wandered back to a manga she had read some time ago. The storyline was still freshly imprinted in her mind, and every single character had made an impact on her, whether big or small.

She had always wanted a family, after all.

It really appalled her how easily that boy attracted people to him, and how much they went through together.

She had tried to hate that series once. Simply because she knew that she could never have such a life. But then she remembered.

It wasn't like her life would turn around if she hated that series.

_Maybe things will get better_, she had always hoped. _But the world as it is now, is unchangeable._

Watching the clouds always made her hope that things could turn back to normal. They always looked so peaceful...

Peaceful day.

She had hoped. She really hoped. Bad habit.

She had hoped no one would find her today, and hopefully (again with the hope), she would have her first peaceful day... since forever.

The door banged open.

"Dad wants you in the lab."

Straightforward, and laced with an icy coldness. A striking characteristic that runs in the Williams' family.

She laughed humourlessly in her own head. Of course, they were biologically linked after all.

Professor Williams. And Julius Williams.

She couldn't say she wasn't happy and relieved when she learned that she wasn't biologically a true Williams.

Juliette got up slowly, her eyes tracing the route to Julius.

"Okay." was her simple reply.

But Julius had already left.

Of course. No one could stand the dirt they couldn't seem to get rid of in the family after all.

* * *

I had once said I lived in a strange world.

That was once my reality. Until the day it all changed.

* * *

"You got it wrong again!" Professor screamed at me.

I just bowed my head low. There was no use in arguing with the most temperamental person I had met in my whole friggin' life (if it was much of a life at all).

Julius just stood at the side, attention fixed on his writing pad and scribbling furiously on it.

Pain erupted on my left cheek.

"YOU WILL DO WHAT I SAY!"

I bit the insides of my cheeks, biting in my words. Didn't I do what he said for my whole life already? What more did he want?

Sometimes, I really wanted to scream in frustration. And cry. But Juliette isn't supposed to cry. She isn't supposed to scream, too. Supposed, not doesn't...

My left cheek hurt. Before I could further that train of thought, pain erupted from my right cheek too. Intense pain. I felt blood drip down from the corner of my lips.

I couldn't hold it back, but I had to. His screaming went over my head, and this time Julius had abandoned the writing pad he was focused on, and turned to us.

"Dad. The guinea pig won't work well, if it's damaged."

It? Haha. Being called an object is not new, but I certainly did not, let me emphasize, did not need Julius Williams' help. _Did. Not._

Rage that was bubbling beneath the surface erupted, and I turned my deathly calm face upwards to face the Professor.

"I did what you said for my entire life. What more do you want?"

My voice reverberated through the laboratory in the sudden silence – perhaps from the shock that their doll was talking back for the first time. Ha.

I could see the Professor's eyes narrow in further rage, and his hand raised, poised for another slap.

But I refused to take that again.

I stepped back and ran. (No, I wasn't a good little girl. I didn't wear goggles or lab coats, and I ran around in the laboratory.)

The Professor's enraged roar behind me got my adrenaline pumping. A sudden thought penetrated my mind.

I want all this to change. I can, can't I?

The Williams' laboratory was very big. The Professor messed around with all kinds of stuff. Chemicals, explosives, engines, machines, robots, gears, space, and even time.

Space and time. It had sounded quite perfect to me back then, for a girl desperate for change.

Angry footsteps thundering behind me helped me make up my mind as I spied the large cube machine up ahead, recognizing it as the new prototype for transporting people through space and time. Perfect for me? At that moment, it seemed so.

So I ran straight to it, slamming my hand on the striking green button on the side of the machine. It glowed to life, and I heard the footsteps behind me slow to a stop.

"Step away from there, Juliette." There, the cautious tone of the great Julius.

Tauntingly, I looked over to him. "Why should I, big brother?" I glanced up at the machine.

"You guys have treated me like trash!" I spat out. "Why do I have to put up with this? Why am I the one suffering when the rest of humanity goes off enjoying the results of my pain?"

Panic seemed to lace his features as he glanced up nervously at the machine. They were three meters away from me.

Good machine, keeping them away. There had to be a radius for the transportation or something. I could feel the metal warming up beneath my fingers as I touched the side of the machine.

"Juliette, just get back here. We won't be able to get you back if you are gone! We don't know what will happen to people who are transported through space and time, and we certainly don't know if they are going in the form of souls, or their bodies." Julius spoke, a bit rushed.

A snort from Professor Williams caught my attention. "Son, I invented it. I know everything about it." He turned to me, a glint reflecting off his eyes. "Little Jules is going to be my tester for this invention anyway." He licked his lips, and I repressed a shudder.

"I just love messing with space and time. Don't think you have escaped just like that, sweet Julie." He chuckled maniacally, and not for the first time today, fear crept into my heart.

I clutched the machine like a lifeline, and a bitter smile crossed my lips as my resolution hardened.

"Anywhere else is better than being here."

A bright light burst forth from the machine, and immense pain shot through my body. It felt like my soul was being ripped from my body. It probably was that way.

I faintly heard a scream of my name, but the pain took away every sense I had.

Change is coming.

I couldn't help but feel hopeful again.

* * *

I stared at the woman's face for like... forever.

She smiled down at me, and brushed my(?)... hair.

My?

Did the machine succeed?

A foreign, warm feeling filled my chest.

Was change here? Did disappointment finally turn away from my door?

I could still feel a lingering pain in my chest, and a warm ache throughout my body. The effects of the machine.

I tried to say something, but it came out as happy gurgles. The woman, who I assumed was holding me since she seemed so big, giggled.

In a beautiful foreign tongue (wow, everything seemed foreign once I came here. Foreign body, foreign feeling, foreign stranger, foreign language. Whew.), she spoke. Clearly having no idea what she's saying, I just tilted my head slightly to get more comfortable.

But I did catch something from her foreign blabber.

My name. My new name. I am a baby. I reincarnated... somewhere. And I am someone else.

The foreign warm feeling I now identified as happiness, filled my being. I raised my chubby hands and looked at them. My new body.

The woman holding me, who I now assumed was my mother, giggled at my antics.

I could feel happiness brimming at the edge of me, threatening to spill over.

Keep calm, Jules, keep calm.

But I couldn't seem to fight off the smile that made its way to my (most probably) chubby face.

Change is here.

* * *

A/N: So, how was it?

Beta'ed/Edited by: Immaangel

Re-uploaded edited chapter on: 17/6/14

Thanks so much, friend!


	2. Chapter 1: Change

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Katekyo Hitman Reborn! characters.

A/N: Hey. So here's the first (real) chapter for Change.

Go on, and please enjoy.

* * *

I yawned. It had been... a month (I think...) since I came here. I did a lot of thinking, but I eventually pushed it all to the back of my mind.

They were all thoughts of my previous life anyway.

But then I would have this thought, every single morning when I woke up (I kept track of the days that passed ever since these thoughts thingy started)...

What if this world was a dream? And the train of thoughts that continued from there on were too scary to even comprehend.

I could safely say that this past one month was the happiest I had ever been.

And I was praying, begging even... that this life would never be taken from me. I was selfish, I knew.

What about Juliette's previous body? What if I was just in a coma and all this been a dream? What if I woke up only to be greeted by Professor Williams and Julius again?

I love this life.

So I was really grateful one day when my mother here bumped into a cabinet while holding me. Correction, bumped me into the cabinet.

I felt pain, of course. But I had never felt so grateful for the pain. _This is real, this is real, this is real._ According to what I had studied back in my old world, pain was the only constant method to waking someone up from a dream. Pain cannot be faked by the nerves of your brain, so if someone feels pain...

It is real.

This is real.

The tears that came was not because of the pain. Okay, maybe it was, but mostly out of relief and joy.

The amount of relief that came with the tears can never be described.

Joy. And happiness. Such a long time. I have never felt this amount of happiness for so long before.

I never really thought this through when I jumped straight in to this life, did I?

But I didn't regret it.

Movement in my crib alerted me, and my drowsiness was quickly shook away.

I saw my mother's cascading blond waves, and her warm green eyes. But today was different. She wouldn't wake me up. It was nap time now. (I wanted to slap myself for saying such a childish thing in my mind, but this body right now was a little hard to control.)

She picked me up gently.

A thought crossed my mind, not for the first time: Where's my father?

But I didn't really want to know. I was afraid that this was all made up in my mind. I had a mother here, and it was already...

She smiled at me.

...more than I deserved. Or wanted. I didn't need a father.

My eyes caught the strap of a duffel bag slung onto her other shoulder. She spoke softly to me in that beautiful language again, and I found myself falling asleep as her voice trailed off in a song.

* * *

Jerky movements woke me up. I blearily opened my eyes, and caught sight of the pretty shade of blonde I had grown accustomed to looking at for the past month.

A warm feeling grew in my chest, but it was quickly replaced by trepidation as I saw the solemnity radiating off my mother.

Something was not right.

It was the middle of the night, as I could see the stars and night sky. But where were we?

Why was Mother running?

She seemed to notice I was awake by now, and sent a small reassuring smile my way. I relaxed a little, not even realising I had tensed up.

Stupid Juliette. Mother will always protect you.

I gurgled happily at her, and her eyes seemed to light up at my mood. She looked ahead, determined, and I could feel her pace quickening.

From my line of sight, on the both sides of us, there were walls. A narrow street. An alley? Why would mother be running through an alley?

A scream tore through the silence of the night, and a breath caught in my throat.

That scream seemed to be the start of everything, as loud bangs started going off, and screams, yells and cries reverberated through the night. Fear crept into my heart, for the first time since... since I was Juliette.

Mother's pace never faltered. But the shadows of two men appeared in front of us, and I squeezed my eyes shut as Mother continued to forge ahead.

Two loud bangs later, I found a smoking gun in her hand, and her faltering footsteps telling me of her low stamina.

How long had she been running?

The chaos continued. I could hear gun shots, battle cries, yells, and screams everywhere. Suffocated. I felt suffocated here.

Suddenly, a particularly loud bang rang through the night behind Mother, and... and...

Mother collapsed.

I was squished between her and the ground, and shock kept my mouth sealed.

Blood spilled from Mother's mouth as she pushed me under her, curling up into a foetal position.

Protecting me. She was shielding me.

Something dripped onto my forehead. The smell of metal was thick in the air, and I realised that it was blood.

Blood. My mother's blood. And all the others in this chaos werestill ringing around me.

No...

No.

No!

Mother's lips touched my forehead in a  
light kiss. _She's still here, she's still here..._

I caught her every word and every syllable, even if I did not understand anything in that beautiful language. I forced myself to remember every single sound.

"Goodbye, I love you."

Change, indeed.

I screamed, and cried. Two things that had Juliette labelled as a taboo for herself.

My throat felt raw and dry, and my eyes felt red and stung with every new tear. But I continued.

My mother's voice rang in my ears. Her last words before she stopped moving.

Why had she stopped moving?

The fear lingering in the air enveloped me, and I couldn't help but scream and cry more.

Mother, Mother, Mother. She was shielding me with her body... her eyes were wide open, and not the usual shade of green I preferred and was used to. Her eyes were glossed over, and a trail of dried blood trickled from her mouth.

She looked... dead.

_No. She can't be..._

What happened? Why?

Somebody had shot her from behind. That somebody certainly didn't realise that my mother was carrying me. She protected me.

Why?

Nobody had ever protected Juliette.

But no, I wasn't Juliette now, was I?

Why did Mother die...?

And here I was trying to form coherent thoughts, at least one thought that could convince myself to stop screaming.

The chaos around us had stopped awhile ago. The screaming, the sickening slashes and crunches, the battle cries and gun shots. They stopped. My high-pitched, shrill screams were the only sounds breaking the deadly silence.

Anyone, if anyone was here... _please._

And now I was still staring up at the sky. The sky was lighting up. Dawn. Dawn was coming. It had been a few hours since Mother was shot. Somebody, anybody, must come around.

Save Mother. Even though she was not responding to anything. Not my screams, not my cries, not even my tears. She usually woke up the moment I started screaming.

What difference was there now?

A voice in my head rang out.

_She's dead._

But I was too tired to cry and thrash around and object to that stupid statement.

_Mama can't be dead. She just can't._

By then, my throat felt itchy and my eyes felt droopy. My screams turned into occasional whimpers. Not voluntarily though.

I had no qualms about whether this was true, or just a dream now.

It hurt too much to be a dream.

* * *

Iemitsu scaled the cracked pavement carefully. For a man who had trudged over blood and mud too many times in his life to count, this was nothing.

Here he was, at Dolceacqua, a small, quiet town on the edge of Italy. Or what used to be a town, anyway. Two Mafia families with a feud lasting for two generations had finally snapped, and they brought their battle to the innocent town on the edge of Italy.

The Dolce Feud. The Godfather of the Mafia had named this catastrophe earlier this dawn. And now he and his team were scaling the town for any survivors, whether it be a civilian, or a member of one of the two families.

Probably not the latter though. The Vindice should have arrived and taken them away already.

So, there they were, scaling for survivors.

Iemitsu scrunched up his nose at the heavy metallic smell that penetrated his nostrils, and the deep red liquid which seemed to have splattered on every other wall. Survivors, survivors.

His team had spread themselves through the once-a-town, and now he was alone, wandering around and manoeuvring around dead bodies, checking if there was anyone still with the living.

Ninth was busy dealing with the police and their nosy investigation team (not that they would find anything when they got here, anyway. Just dead bodies.), trying to get them to stay off the case until the Vongola itself finished their own inspection (they were one of the strongest Mafia families, so of course they skirted around the police and law a lot, Iemitsu proudly thought).

A whimper caught his attention. Turning back, he retraced his steps and saw his team mate, Turmeric, crouching over a dead body with shock seemingly embedded on his face.

"Turmeric." Iemitsu called out, and made his way to the corpse, who he now saw was a woman with blonde hair.

Blonde hair...

"Turmeric, what have you found?" Iemitsu went closer, and to his shock, came another whimper.

"Boss... This woman..." Iemitsu took in a sharp intake of breath as he saw the baby under the woman. No, but that was not what took his breath away.

That woman...

"Ysabelle..."

* * *

"A survivor?" Timoteo echoed.

"Yes, Ninth. It seems so. And..." He can hear hesitation on the other side of the line.

"Speak, Iemitsu." Timoteo urged.

"We... We found Ysabelle." Timoteo's eyes widened, and he couldn't help but hope for the best.

"Is she the survivor?"

"...No, sir."

Timoteo felt his heart crush and break. Another of his family member, gone.

Ysabelle, the fair blonde lady who was elegant in her every move, whether in battle or life. His niece.

And he failed to protect her. He failed to protect a family member.

Timoteo forced his voice to come out in a steady tone.

"Bring her to me."

"And... there is another thing, Ninth..." Timoteo kept silent and waited for Iemitsu to continue. "The survivor is a baby. She was found under Ysabelle's body."

Timoteo should have really sued Iemitsu. That was two things, not one thing.

But on the other hand, he still needed his CEDEF leader.

"Bring them to me."

"Yes sir."

* * *

Turmeric, Timoteo recognized as one of Iemitsu's herb collection teammates, came knocking on the Vongola's doors with a baby, a body, and a duffel bag.

Timoteo's guardians rushed forward receive the body and the baby. And surprisingly, the duffel bag too.

"What is that?" Timoteo went forward to question the suspicious-looking duffel bag.

"It was with Ysabelle. I think it's her belongings, sir." Turmeric replied respectfully, bowing slightly.

Timoteo nodded, more than interested to find out what was in the bag.

"Have an autopsy be done on Ysabelle, and hand the child to one of our live-in nannies for Federico. Watch over the child."

"Yes, Ninth." Some of his guardians went their own separate ways (one carrying the body, the other with the baby), while the rest stayed with him. Timoteo dismissed Turmeric.

"Come." He beckoned the rest of his guardians to follow him. Timoteo's eyes tracked the duffel bag held by one of his guardians. "I have a suspicion that we will soon find out why Ysabelle left home with that... Or should I say..." A bitter smile crossed his features.

"We already found out."

* * *

Necessities for someone who wanted to, or was on the run from home was all in the bag.

Two passports. Timoteo reached for the first – an older, worn out passport. He almost dreaded looking at the profile.

It was her. And the dread settled in the pit of the Mafia boss's stomach. She really was dead. It really was her. No chance of the body being someone who looked a lot like his niece.

His heart clenched as he slid the passport forward to one of his guardians —a silent order for him to check out the authenticity of the passport.

It was also a silent plea that the passport did not happen to belong to the body he barely gave a glance to in the hallway.

But he knew there was no chance.

Deciding to push that thought to the back of his mind, he reached for the second passport, ignoring the other trinkets founds in the duffel bag. Confirming identities came first.

Timoteo let his instincts take over, and decided in the back of his mind that it was newly made. And most possibly, belonged to the baby from before.

And he was right. The picture showed as much – the barely visible black hair that had just grown, and bright emerald green eyes.

Just like Ysabelle.

His heart clenched once again, when he saw the name printed neatly on the profile. He smirked at it. His niece always had a way with names. And forging last names, of course.

Gioia. Ysabelle had always told him how much she liked that name.

He had expected this, but confirming it gave him a new kind of feeling.

Trepidation, hesitation, slight anger, and most prominently, excitement.

He was excited, now that he had confirmed that he had another family member. Not by blood, no, but good enough. Good enough so that he can pass on the news to his late wife – that Ysabelle, her niece, had not died for, and with, nothing.

That the niece he himself doted on so much had died after passing on something noble, something that she found worthy enough to protect.

* * *

I woke up to see an unfamiliar face peering down at me. Inwardly, I let out a short scream of shock, but then everything that happened from before rushed into my mind, and I couldn't help but wail out loud again.

"Master!" A berating voice sounded in that sweet tongue I had heard so much in the past month.

I really had to learn this new language. I guess Mother could teac –

Oh. She... wasn't here anymore.

I wailed louder, realising that I was in an unfamiliar setting, and my raw throat and puffy eyes told me that it was all real.

Mother... Where was Mother? She was protecting me...

A strange man. A strange man was looking down at me... Then I fell asleep. He took Mother, he must have.

Did he come to save Mother? Mother didn't move... She didn't respond to my screams or cries...

I hope she was saved.

But for some reason, my heart couldn't settle down. Mother, I need to see mother.

A kind, wrinkled face came into view to replace the young, innocent face of a boy who was peering down at me.

Warm hands picked me up.

They were warm... But they didn't belong to Mama.

I cried louder, only quietening when a bottle of milk was stuck in my mouth. I sniffed, but welcomed the warm beverage down my dry throat.

The old, kind lady holding me and feeding me with a bottle of milk took the liberty to whisper and hum quietly to me, bouncing me in a regular rhythm.

Oh, no. No. I was not going to fall asleep.

Mama. I still needed to go see Mother.

I struggled to keep my drowsy eyes open, and truthfully, I really couldn't.

The day's events caught up with my fatigue, and before long, I fell into a deep sleep.

What pained me more was that I dreamed of Mother. Lying on the ground.

In a pool of... blood.

* * *

Timoteo was angry.

Ysabelle had ran away from home a year ago, and no news of her had been heard. She had just disappeared. She had told no one, and fell off the face of the earth.

Then a year after that, during a fight, her body was suddenly found, and under her was a one month old baby. Her daughter.

His grand-niece. And why was he angry?

No news of the father had ever been heard. But no, that was not why he was angry.

Why had Ysabelle run away? The truth quite literally slept in Federico's nanny's arms, and that would be to give birth to her daughter. Did she think that the Vongola would not accept her any more if she had a child?

Was it because of the unknown father?  
Why did Ysabelle want to go to such lengths to protect this child then? Simple. The father must have meant a lot to her.

And Timoteo was confused.

He, for once, had no ideas. Who would the father be?

His niece would not pick someone who was not worthy, or someone who would give up on her if she had a child of his.

But no...he didn't want to dwell on such a question now. The autopsy report had just come out.

His niece died of a gunshot, straight to her stomach. She had been able to hold out for a few minutes—but that was it. The blonde was always known to have anaemia, but it was always taken care of delicately, and thus her health condition never hindered her.

It was not the time to dwell on the past...

His vow ever since he stepped up as Vongola Ninth – to protect his family no matter what - would come to true use now.

"The child..." His right hand man looked up.

"The child Ysabelle was protecting. She is my grand-niece. Part of our family now."

As his right hand man comprehended it, Timoteo felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders.

No, he might not have Ysabelle now. He would not be able to protect her any more, after failing to do so once. But she left something for him to protect once more.

He might be getting on in his age, but a new family member was always welcome.

The guilt and worry that had been eating away at him ever since Ysabelle's disappearance was replaced by newfound responsibility.

He had failed once, but he would not fail this time. He would make sure he did a good job – a good enough job, so that Ysabelle could rest in peace.

"Yes, Ninth."

A small smile crossed his features as his thoughts turned to more light-hearted matters.

Now, who to invite for the Vongola-style One Month Old Celebration for the princess?

* * *

How was it? Thank you to all my followers and favourites, but please leave a review? So that I can know how you think of this story. Please. Thank you.

Reviews are lovely, please.

Edited/Beta-ed by: Immaangel

Updated: 17/6/14

Thank you, Immaangel!


	3. Chapter 2: Mother

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Katekyo Hitman Reborn! characters.

A/N: Sorry if there's a lot of thinking and stuff from my OC's part. Please understand that she is a baby and she can do about nothing now, and I am focusing on character development at the moment.

* * *

"And thus, I formally announce that this child is a part of Vongola, a part of our family."

Applause rang out at the speech the Vongola Ninth just gave, while holding a young baby who looks no more than a month old.

Most of the immediate family of Vongola is standing in the large hall to attend the welcome party for the young child who have no doubt wormed her way in the old man's heart.

_"Now, many of you may be wondering who this child is. I am pleased to announce that she is the new born child of the late Ysabelle, my niece. Gioia is her name."_

_Polite applause rang out, and most of the people who were present masked their sadness at hearing the death of the brightest person in Vongola. But as the Ninth always told them, they should always focus on the present than the past._

_And the present is in the Ninth's arms, yawning._

The banquet went on, and people have came up to offer their congratulations and condolences for the old man.

He gladly accepted every one of them, and all his guardians have got to hold Gioia at least once – whether willingly or not. (The Ninth can be persuasive, in more ways than one, of course.)

Gioia fell asleep before the banquet ended quietly.

The Ninth was glad, as this seem like the first day ever since the child came that she had not cry and wail the moment she woke up.

Federico's nanny had theorised that it must be the unfamiliar environment (and the fact that Federico seem to like popping his head suddenly inside her crib to scare her...) which caused the young child to wail loudly every time she woke up. They did find out that the child only falls asleep when she is tired of crying, or when someone sings to her.

Or when Ninth holds her.

Timoteo doesn't think it's just the unfamiliar environment.

Ever since he first saw the child, he knew there was something different about her. Call it his intuition, but he knows that Gioia is aware of the world around her.

That Gioia also loves Ysabelle very, very much.

So when she wakes up every single time and she doesn't see her mother, she wailed and cried.

Poor child. That was the only thing Timoteo could say, or think of.

She lost her mother at a very young age, and the newly-appointed personal paediatrician of Gioia had said that there was evidence of the child screaming and crying hoarsely during the time of the feud. Or after that.

She must have saw her mother's lifeless eyes.

That's what made Timoteo strengthen his desire to protect the young child. Said young child shouldn't have went through so much in just one night, after all.

Timoteo is sure that, he is not the only one with that sentiment to protect this young child.

He can see that, when he had coaxed a smile out of the young child (her first smile in the Vongola Estate), the whole room brightened up.

Much like when Ysabelle always seem to be able to do when she smiled.

* * *

I gave up on crying and screaming and wailing for mother on this particular day when everyone around me seems happy.

They don't have to be sad or worried because of me.

I think, it has been two weeks since I've been here. (Around twelve days. Yes, I kept count.)

Everyday, I wake up wanting to see mother.

But everyday, there will be this voice inside of me that tells me mother is dead, she won't be coming back.

She won't ever be coming back.

And you know that, you know that, because you have saw her lifeless eyes.

Halfway through my short one month stay with mother, I figured out my name. (Should be pretty obvious, since she calls me that every single day.)

Gioia.

I can't say I am not happy to have a new name. It gave me a new sense of identity.

And I once again got a confirmation that this can't be not true, because my brain can never conjure up such a name.

A name which I liked, a lot.

Then mother was gone.

No more was her sweet voice lulling me to sleep, her warm hands which brought me everywhere, and her caring eyes which twinkled and laughed at my every movement.

Gone...

And suddenly I was thrown into this new place. The only constant faces I find are – an old, kind woman who seems to have taken up the role to take care of me, a young (fine, not as young as me _here_) boy with blond hair who keeps popping his head in my crib, and an old man who smiles at me and holds me with warm hands.

His smile reminds me of mother. His warm hands reminds me of mother, too.

I am so confused. I don't get what everybody is saying.

They kept speaking in this beautiful tongue, and I can't keep up or understand anything.

It makes me so frustrated.

What if they were going to tell me where mother went?

But I have not seen mother anywhere ever since I fell asleep...

With mother on top of me...

Have they taken mother away?

But they seem so kind...

They seem so kind and nice. And the old man who holds me reminds me of mother too. If they took mother away, they will be bad people, and they would not treat me gently, right?

Yes, they must be good people... Maybe they saved mother and she is just recovering...or something. That's why I can't see her yet.

I must be patient.

I can definitely see mother again.

So when this evening, I was suddenly in front of a huge crowd and the old man is holding me while speaking in that beautiful language again, I did not cry or wail.

As it is, I stupidly held on to hope again.

* * *

The Ninth is a busy person. He really is.

But he will always make time for family.

That's why when two months after Gioia arrived at the Vongola Estate, her paediatrician came to look for him personally, he got worried.

The last time he saw little Gioia was two days ago. Too long, indeed, considering they live under the same roof.

But again, he didn't have the time to go over to the West Wing these days.

"Ninth. Princess' paediatrician is here to give his report." His right hand man, Coyote reported as he walked into the spacious office.

"Allow his entry." Timoteo waved off the respectful bow as he signed another file.

"Ninth. Pleased to meet you again."

Timoteo looked up and locked eyes with the man who just walked in. Once a freelance hit-man, now a retired doctor named Evan.

Said doctor had an amused glint in his eyes. "I was pretty surprised when you employed me as your little princess' paediatrician. People don't really see me as a baby's person, you know."

"Good to see you again, old friend." Timoteo greeted lightly. "I just thought you might be getting rusty with your skills." He joked.

"Ah... I wouldn't put it past your eyes, good ol' Timoteo." The doctor-turned-paediatrician walked forward and placed a folder on Timoteo's table.

"Here. My report for this month."

Timoteo reached forward and skimmed through the documents enclosed in it.

Evan began his verbal report. "She's a smart girl."

Timoteo raised a brow, but never did look up as he continued scanning the report.

"She responds to us, and...well, little Gioia is a quiet girl. She doesn't really cry or scream unnecessarily. That may have something to do with how nannies and maids wait on her every need, thus she doesn't need to scream for something. But she is a smart girl." Evan insisted.

Then the atmosphere shifted as he smirked. "I look forward to seeing her grow up." He commented offhandedly. "Her eyes are one of the most beauti – "

A thump sounded.

"Now I see where Doctor Shamal's personality came from." Coyote commented drily, as he looked at the unconscious body of one retired hit-man.

Timoteo just replaced his sceptre by the side of his chair.

"Like master, like apprentice. Get him out of the office please, and make sure he does his work properly."

Coyote couldn't agree more as people came in to haul his old friend's unconscious body out.

* * *

Iemitsu settled at his desk, his eyes roaming over to settle on a small panel on his table.

He hesitated, then pulled it open, to reveal a photo of his wife.

She had been pregnant when he left. Now it has been a few months.

It's time to go back and witness the birth of his son. Ysabelle's disappearance – his Sun guardian's disappearance had kept him away from his home for too long, after all.

"Missing your family?" A squeaky voice asked.

"Yeah... I should go back soon." Iemitsu smiled at the photo, and took it out of the panel.

Lal Mirch allowed a satisfied expression to cross her face. Nana Sawada, as she had witnessed, is kind and innocent. Iemitsu, the idiot, shouldn't have even left her in the first place.

It's not like they couldn't have found Ysabelle and her child without him.

The baby then quickly changed her mind about Iemitsu being an idiot as said man began making smooching gestures and kissing faces at the photo.

Iemitsu is a very big idiot, and that is the understatement of the decade.

* * *

"Gioia."

I blinked at the sudden bright light which flooded the room. Did someone just call me or –

"Gioia."

I blinked again. It's bed time, what do any of them want? (I am _really_ going to slap myself when I grow up for these childish thoughts. I think being a baby intoxicated my mind.)

A face appeared. Oh. The blond boy who likes scaring me (but never did elicit any sort of reaction out of me. Ha.).

"Federico." He stuck his hand out as if he is expecting me to shake it. Is he going to play with me? Well, playing with the adults had gotten boring...

I waved my hand around and let out a happy sound when he captured my small hand and shook it.

What did he say again? Federico? His name, I guess.

I tried to say something again, but it only came out as some incoherent blabber. Stupid baby's tongue. I pulled a sour face, and the young boy chuckled at this.

"Your name is Gioia, right?" Over the past few weeks (I think it has been two months now...? Since I came to this place, anyway), with people speaking this beautiful tongue left and right, I learned how to listen and learn. I think that's the gist of what he's saying. I can only understand simple phrases now... And I don't even know what language this is. Fail, yes, I know.

I let out a happy gurgle and he smiled. "You'll be my playmate from now on, okay, Gioia?" He made an okay gesture with both hands, trying to get his point across.

This boy seem nice. Maybe he can help me find mother.

I smiled and cheered at him, reaching out to pat his face.

He smiled back widely, but then suddenly an adult's voice came, speaking a little too fast for my liking.

He frowned when he looked up, and kissed me on the forehead.

"Byebye, Gioia!"

A sudden hollow feeling filled me and froze my limbs as I recalled the last time someone said this...to me.

Don't say goodbye.

Don't leave.

* * *

To say that Federico was annoyed is an understatement.

Two weeks prior to the present, Uncle Turmeric had suddenly brought in a baby. A baby who looks reeeaaally young.

She looked cute, too, but Federico won't admit that. He's five this year, so he must be manly. C-words such as 'cute' are not allowed to pass his lips.

Also, the baby looked like Aunt Ysabelle. It's the same. Their eyes.

That's why Federico had stepped in closer to take a look. He was always known as a curious child, after all.

That child responded to what he said, and that made him happy. Her smile made him happy.

Then suddenly the old hag had to come in and scold him for skipping home school classes – it's not his fault the adults are always around the baby every time his classes end. He had to find a way to talk to that child, who seems like the only person to understand him.

'Gioia. Gioia will be my little sister.' A big grin sprouted on his face.

He happily skipped to his built-in classroom in the estate.

* * *

"What's with that look on your face, brat? Up to something?" A rough hand came down to rub Federico's head less-than-affectionately, and the blood boy did not respond well.

"Go away, Enrico!" The young adult scowled at the answer.

"Wrong reply, kid." Federico tried to hit his older brother, but failed terribly when Enrico's large hand pushed himself back so that his own arms cannot reach the tall young adult.

Frowning, Federico gave up and stuck his tongue out at Enrico. He crossed his arms and replied indignantly. "I was going to visit Gioia."

Enrico raised an eyebrow. "Gioia? Oh. The one old man brought in a while ago."

Federico managed an angry pout. "Gioia is not 'the one old man brought in'! She is Papa's grandniece, and that makes her my sister!" He reasoned angrily, stomping his foot several times on the ground.

Enrico put down his hand. "Don't be ridiculous. If she's old man's grandniece, she should be our niece. Listen in class, brat."

Federico fumed at his oldest brother. "To me, Gioia is my little sister! Not yours or anybody's!" He screamed at him, then stormed (ran) down the hallway to...the nursery.

Oh well. Enrico shrugged it off. Brats doesn't concern him. He has much more important things to do. An additional family member doesn't mean anything.

* * *

"Ninth!" Coyote briskly walked in, his hands holding a wooden box.

Timoteo looked up from his work, and recognised the box to be one of the items found in the duffel bag with Ysabelle's body.

"Speak." Timoteo said quickly as he ushered his right-hand man to the couch, while settling down on the single comfortable chair at the head of the coffee table.

"We have broken the code on this box, which was found with Miss." Coyote placed the box on the coffee table, and Timoteo nodded.

"Have you checked what is in it?" Coyote nodded to the question.

"Yes. It contains two letters. And what we presume to be a diary. We have not read any of the contents. And...two rings too."

Timoteo looked up from the box. "Rings?" He raised an eyebrow. Having one is reasonable – the one given to her by Timoteo as a gift for entering the CEDEF Team. But, the other one...?

"Yes, Ninth. You might want to take a look by yourself..." Coyote nodded to the box. "I would excuse myself now then." He stood up and respectfully bowed, then exited quickly to give his boss much needed privacy.

Hearing the click as the door falls in place, Timoteo opens the box, and sees slightly yellowed edges of two letters and a small notebook, which is probably the diary. He took out the two envelopes and the diary, and caught sight of the two rings left inside.

One, he looks upon with recognition and warmth, is indeed the one which he himself had given to Ysabelle years ago. A simple silver band with intricate designs carved on them, lined with fine gold, signifying the sun.

Timoteo picked up the other ring from the box. It is truly a piece of art, and the detailed patterns and lines along the band of the ring shows that. The gem is simply one-of-a-kind, being the brightest topaz Timoteo ever saw in his life.

Putting down the ring, he shifted the letters. There are only two of them, but they are thick. He allowed a bitter expression to cross his face.

In the Mafia, it's a blessing to be able to live up to an age where you can start having white hair. Thus everyone tries to find a way to pass down their knowledge, experiences, feelings, or thoughts to their close friends and families. People can call them wills, but it's not as simple as that. Nearly nobody can afford to trust lawyers in the Mafia.

His niece then, had chosen the safest way. Writing on paper, bringing it with her, protecting it with her life. You can trust no one but yourself in the outside world, and that applies to the Mafia as well. Trust his niece to be prepared for the worst situation that will happen to her...sigh.

His eye caught the letter that was addressed to him. Oh well. He can read that later. What really catches his interest is the fact that the other letter is addressed to... Reborn.

Timoteo quirk an eyebrow.

Last he knew, Reborn and Ysabelle were just acquaintances who greets each other politely (in Ysabelle's case, because Timoteo can't seem to remember when Reborn has bothered to be more polite than tipping his hat) in the hallway because they are allies, in a way. No contact in other ways...supposedly.

Then why is there a thicker letter here for Reborn than him? (Yes, he's jealous. He means that he overlooked the child ever since she was young so he should have more pages. No, it's not petty for the Godfather of Mafia to be jealous of such things.)

But he will respect her privacy and wishes (and conveniently not give a certain hit-man his supposed letter for now), because he have a letter to read.

* * *

A/N: Thank you to all my followers and favourites! Thank you for all your support.

But, please give me some reviews so that I can know what you guys think of my story? Please? Thank you.

Reviews are lovely, as usual.


	4. Chapter 3: Father

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Katekyo Hitman Reborn! characters.

A/N: Enjoy, please.

* * *

People once called me a fool.

I always thought it was true. I never did think things through when I did them.

In a way, I could be described as someone who does things without thinking of the consequences. But I guess nothing I say (or think) now can remedy that fact.

I am not just a hopeful idiot.

I am an idiotic, hopeful fool.

Even so, why do I continue on hoping?

I am such a fool.

But I know that even after I have said all this, I will still hope.

And the cycle will repeat again and again.

Disappointment will never turn away from my door, after all.

* * *

I patted the blond boy's cheeks with my small hands, trying to wake him up. Apparently, sitting on his chest didn't work.

Aww, I made such an effort to roll myself on top and sit on him too.

I scrunched my nose up as he snored lightly. Snoring is depicted as a result of being in a re-energizing sleep from fatigue. Why would Federico be so tired? All he ever did was play with me for the last... oops, it's been four hours?

I yawned, and continued on my mission of slapping-my-playmate-awake. Ever since the day he talked to me, he had come to play with me regularly. It had been three months into our buddies relationship, and I could say that it has been a great time. He might be a kid, but I am glad he speaks to me.

I wasn't really a baby after all. And I didn't appreciate facing people who just wanted to coo at me.

Surprisingly, Federico, or Fre, as he told me to call him, had talked to me like I was a normal human. Like, normal, as in not a baby who didn't understand anything. He had tried to teach me the language everyone around me was speaking, which I now finally identified as Italian. He was still trying, and I could say I learned quite a lot now, thanks to my new buddy.

But I almost had a heart attack when he tried to teach me how to introduce myself. No, it wasn't too advanced for me, considering I did know a range of Italian terms and can speak them (at least in my mind, since this body only allows me to make some vowels and sounds. Annoying, I know.).

It was how he tried to teach me by using an example... namely me.

* * *

_"Come on, try saying this, Gio!" He fake-coughed, and spoke.__"My name is Federico. Oh wait, you shouldn't say your name is Federico, since my name is Federico and your name is Gioia!" He corrected himself enthusiastically, almost bouncing on his feet._

_ I caught on to his enthusiasm quickly, and clapped my hands as I managed a happy giggle. He patted my head and settled down again.__"Okay, so you say this!" I listened intently._

_ "My name is Gioia del Vongola, and I am... Eh, how old are you again, Gio..."__The rest of what he said drifted away the moment he said the word "Vongola". _

_Vongola? That manga I read before? Really? That can't be. It must be...a coincidence?_

_"Ahh, I remember, daddy said Gio is about six months old! Oh, do you know daddy? Daddy's name is Timoteo! He said that Gio is his..." He furrowed his eyebrow. "Gra-grand...nice? Niece? Grandniece!" He beamed at me brightly, and... I don't know what happened, since shock froze and took me over._

* * *

_When I came to again, I was in my crib, alone, and the room was dark with the few luminous patterns (starfishes, seashells, seahorses, whales, clams. I never did question the obsession with sea creatures, but now I guess it makes sense. A little.) illuminating the dark room slightly only._

_Everything from before came to me in a rush, and I scowled at the ceiling. Well, if it's really the Vongola, as in Vongola of the series I read before... I guess it's possible._

_Manga in the thirtieth century was a form of entertainment for people, and well, there were historical stories turned manga, so I shouldn't have been surprised that all of this was real. And that they are really Vongola. I needed more information...__Federico. That manga...at the start, I believe they had mentioned that there was three heirs, but they had all...died. Killed, I don't know._

_First three heirs... Good thing I had a good memory. (I actually wanted to be a mnemonist when I escape that hellhole, but now that I escaped...in a different way, I was reconsidering. Anyway...) And my memory told me that Timoteo was the Ninth. Then the tenth heirs... Tsunayoshi...? __It's fuzzy..._

_There are so many things I didn't know... But one thing I knew was that I won't give up my playmate to death so easily._

_Federico is a nice boy. He truly is._

_I guess people can say we have a sort of mutual understanding...__Oh well. I shouldn't worry about that...__Not now, anyway._

_And I am hungry._

* * *

Enrico didn't know what to say when one day, his father walked into the dining room, positively glowing with happiness and holding a bundle in his arms.

That was a few months ago, but he could clearly remember the kind, broad smile his father gave to everyone. He had then introduced the baby as Gioia.

Happiness. How ironic that sounded when said baby began crying the moment her name was mentioned.

But Enrico was shocked. Or maybe he was beyond shocked, because as he stared into the bright emerald eyes the child possessed, he felt a pang in his heart. Her eyes reminded him of _her_. The person who relentlessly, stubbornly insisted to be friends with him, just so that she could understand him better. But _she_ was gone now. She had run away a year ago.

As his father mournfully announced the departure of _her_ from the living, he found himself unable to control his anger and other emotions, along with knowing the news that this bundle of supposed happiness (who was _still_ crying) was _her _child.

Just screw all of this.

He wasn't supposed to care. But he could almost hear _her_ voice... Hear what she will say in this kind of situation.

_"__Please take good care of my daughter, Enrico. She's family now." _

And damn, he knew just how much that woman cherishes family.

But he shouldn't have cared. He shouldn't. He was supposed to be a child who grew up with the duty of being the tenth Vongola boss, tainted by the darkness and who killed without a blink of the eye.

_Surprise me._ His eyes flickered from his breakfast to the child, who had quietened down to have her milk.

_Surprise me._

_Show me that her choice to die for you was not in vain._

_I have high expectations, Gioia del Vongola._

* * *

"So, kid, I heard you took a liking to the young princess we just brought in?"

Massimo spared a glance at his sulking brother in the corner of the room.

"Gioia understands me."

"Uh-huh." Massimo uttered as he abruptly veered right, narrowly escaping a fireball. He whistled, "Good stuff, this player has."

His younger brother shot him a glare. "Massimo, I came here to ask you for advice! Stop playing for a moment!" He pouted angrily from his corner.

Massimo sighed and messed up the back of his head, pausing his game. "Fine, what advice do you want? Big brother Massimo is here." He smiled proudly.

Federico just glared at the wall harder (which wasn't very hard at all). "That perverted doctor is here! He said he was Gio's doctor, and chased me out of her room so that he can give her a check up!"

"Doctor Evan?" Massimo rose his eyebrows. "Dad must be pretty serious about the lil' princess, huh... Well, considering she _is_ Auntie's daughter..." Massimo sighed again.

"Look here, kid. It's not that I don't want to help you, but if Dr Evan's really the lil' princess's doctor, he needs to check on the lil' princess so that he'll know if she's sick and needs treatment. So be patient."

Federico's frown lightened slightly. "I don't want Gioia to be sick, Massimo!" He looked quite horrified now.

_Oops._ "I don't want that too. So, do you want to play video games with me while waiting for Mr Evan to be done?"

Federico's usual energetic smile appeared.

"Yes!"

"I'll thrash you." The previous mature young man was gone, and was quickly replaced by a gaming maniac.

"Bring it on, bro!"

* * *

"How is she?"

The doctor assumed a pose of ease. "Fine. But I found out a little something."

Timoteo rose an eyebrow, and leaned forward slightly. "What might that be?"

Evan slid a folder across the table. "Here." Timoteo caught it with practised ease, and flipped through it quickly.

"She inherited two things from Ysabelle, as of what I've seen at this time." Evan leaned his head lazily on one hand.

"First, is her health condition." Timoteo visibly stiffened.

"Woah, chill down, bro. I haven't got to the second one yet." Not waiting for Timoteo's reaction, he continued.

"So, second." A smirk made its way to the paediatrician's face.

"Her innate ability of strong sun flames."

A moment of silence made everything seem still and lifeless.

Then the silence broke.

"I don't think that trait was just from my niece."

* * *

_'Dear Uncle,_

_By the time you are reading this, I will either be dead or...well, dead._

_This letter conveys my last words. It's basically my will. I don't want to say too much, but I will say that I am very worried._

_First, please understand that I did not run away because I wanted to. I needed to, or the child inside me will be in so much danger. I just _can't_ risk it. She is too important to me. She is the child I have to protect __– __a part of me and the person I love._

_Her name is Gioia. I wish for happiness to stay forever with her, Uncle. She will be my source of comfort and joy from now on, and I hope that we will live together in peace._

_I am sure that there are many questions you wish to ask. I shall answer all of them, but I need you to swear, Uncle, that you will not say any of the things I want to say to anyone other than Gioia, and two people you trust who will not spread this. Please._

_I am scared, to tell the truth, when I first learned that I had a child growing in my womb. I was so afraid, but no one was there. So I decided to bring this child away from the Mafia, in the hopes that one day, if she does trace her family history back to here, she can accept the selfishness of her mother, who tore her away from the family she ought to have._

_I believe you swore to yourself that you shall not reveal anything, yes?_

_The father is Reborn. No, it was not an affair, Uncle. We had just decided to not let anyone know, or it would endanger me, with him supposedly being the best hit-man in the whole world. Then it became a secret to you, or anyone else for that matter too._

_Please do not let Reborn know he has a daughter._

_I am sorry for being so selfish, and I know no amount of apologies can convey how sorry I feel._

_With how Reborn disappeared during a mission a month before I knew I had Gioia, I instantly realised that I could not afford to stay any longer. Even if he was going to come back._

_But I had this sinking suspicion that he wouldn't come back, after researching a little about the places where it was possible for him to be at. I found out that six__(or seven, depending on circumstances)__ other people from the Mafia had disappeared too. And it all added up after I put their information together with Reborn's._

_They won't be coming back any time soon._

_And I knew I had to act fast. So I ran. I am so sorry, Uncle. If Reborn is back, or even if he isn't yet, please don't tell him. If anything, I would want Gioia to say it._

_Please refrain from all contact between Gioia and Reborn. With how sharp that man is, I doubt that he won't recognise his own daughter.__If you ever find Gioia, please, take her in and treat her like how all of you had treated me. If I am dead, I don't know what will become of her at such a young age._

_She has very weak health, which was passed down from me. Her condition will probably be the same as me, as will be the symptoms. But she is different. She is my and Reborn's child._

_When she was first born just a week ago, her weak health rendered her almost unable to survive. But I used her body's ability of being compatible with sun flames to infuse my own flames within her so that her heart can grow to be stronger until she is able to survive without sun flames supporting her body._

_My flames have to be infused every two months. But to my surprise, Gioia's compatibility with flames doesn't work one way. Her own flames responded to mine, and even though she doesn't realise it herself, she is constantly using her own flames to support herself. She has a huge flame capacity, but I don't know if using too much flames has a side effect._

_As for the more formal part... I hope for all of my properties and belongings to go to Gioia as soon as she turns eight. Simple as that._

_Best wishes to your sons too. I wish for their fortune for the routes they choose in the future. Please do help me convey my apologies to Enrico._

_I have the confidence that my child will grow up to be a great woman._

_Please do allow her to get in contact with my Japanese family, too. I have a hunch that she might be the key to solving the conflict between them._

_Best wishes, Uncle._

_Ysabelle del Vongola (or Rioko, __though I would prefer the first one__)_

_P.S. Please do not read Reborn's letter, if you did have access to my box of belongings, which you probably do.__'_

A bright yellow flame with wisps of indigo shone on the top of the first of the parchments, and on the bottom right corner of subsequent parchments.

* * *

A/N: How was it? Was it too confusing or rushed?

Edited/Beta-ed: Immaangel

Thanks!

Reviews are lovely.


	5. Extra I: Ysabelle

A/N: Dedicated to my friend whose birthday was on June 16. Enjoy.

* * *

**OMAKE – YSABELLE**

* * *

_""Get out of my sight!" A five-year-old Rioko stiffened as a teacup smashed near her feet._

_She whimpered and scampered out of the room, running down the hallway to get to the main door._

_Sliding it open quickly, she ran out of the big Japanese-styled mansion barefooted. Running to the nearest playground, she quickly claimed the spot under the slide, sitting down and tucking her legs under her chin._

_She bit her lip, and the tears that she had been holding back slid down her cheeks. "Why do they hate me?" She sniffed, and hugged her legs to herself closer._

_"__Mama.__..__Where are you?__"_

* * *

Ysabelle sighed in bliss, and sipped her coffee.

"Enjoying the coffee?" Arms slipped around her neck, and she felt warm breath on her neck. Smiling, she raised her cup to where Reborn had placed his head on hers. The man captured her wrist in one hand and brought the cup to him, sipping it.

"Hmm... Too sweet. You added too much milk."

"That's your opinion." Ysabelle argued.

"My opinion is the only one that matters." He said cockily.

Ysabelle slapped his arm, and he smirked, releasing her wrist. She brought the coffee to her lips, shooting a glare behind her.

A comfortable silence ensued, and she placed the empty cup on the coffee table.

"My next mission starts in an hour. I'll go prepare." She shot a bright smile at the man sitting quietly beside her, and got up to leave. A hand captured her wrist, pulling her down, and she squeaked in surprise as she fell down into Reborn's lap.

She quickly covered her mouth, embarrassed that she was caught making such a sound. Deep chuckles caught her attention, and she glared up at the man.

"Reborn, I really need to go."

"You won't even give me a kiss?" She blushed and smacked his chest.

He dipped his head down and his lips met hers. She squeezed her eyes shut as she felt her heart race, and there was the familiar feeling of her legs turning to mush. He licked her lower lip, and she gasped. He slipped his tongue in, and their tongues twisted and turned around each other, almost like a dance. He pulled away first, and the flushed woman glared at him.

"I really need to go!"

"A mission is more important than me?" He smirked and nibbled her ear. She bit her lip and tried to calm her racing heart. She then narrowed her eyes at the man holding her.

"Yes, and if you are not letting go, I will _happen_ to take longer on missions."

He growled and released her. The woman always knew which of his buttons to press.

"Hurry back."

"Sure, sure."

* * *

_"Why have you stepped foot into our estate again, you wretch?!" _

_Saika turned her deathly calm face to face her sister-in-law._

_"Where is Rioko?"_

_Her sister-in-law (which she hadn't bothered to remember the name of) laughed. "Back for that good-for-nothing?"_

_Saika clenched her fist, reminding herself that she was just here for her daughter and that she was not _going back without her.

_The woman in front of her sneered. "She won't be back for some time. Oh wait, who is she again?" She smiled deviously, and Saika's hand connected with her sister-in-law's cheek._

_"Seems like leaving with Nee-san for Italy was the right choice. This family is just trash anyway." She spat angrily, stalking out of the big house, quickly scanning the area to search for a possible blonde-headed girl._

_"Rioko...__w__here are you?"_

* * *

Ysabelle stared up at her ceiling. It was one of the rare days in which she can just laze around and sleep late into the afternoon.

But apparently, the serene peace just had to be destroyed.

A gun shot startled her.

"What the heck, Reborn?" She glared at the man who is now leaning against the door frame.

"Get up, you are going on a mission with me."

She turned her gaze to the smoking hole in her wall. "And who says I will?"

He smirked. "Me."

A pillow was thrown in his direction. "No, I refuse." She pulled her thick blanket over her head, and another gun shot rang out.

"Will you stop bullying my wall?"

"No. Anyway, your bunny was the one who died."

She threw her blankets away, horrified.

"REBORN! That was a limited edition plushie!"

* * *

_"Rioko! Where are you? It's Mama!" Saika desperately called out as she passed by the park, looking around._

_"Ma...ma?" __Saika__ quickly halted, relief flooding her system when she saw a familiar face pop up from under the slide._

_"Mama!" The little girl quickly ran out of her hiding place and hugged the older woman, sniffling and sobbing.__"Rioko!" Hugging her daughter back, she smiled. _

_"Do you want to go to Italy with Mama and see Auntie Reika and her husband?"_

_Rioko looked up tearfully at her mother. "I will follow Mama anywhere! Don't leave me again, Mama..."__Saika patted her daughter's head. "I am sorry... We will be together from now on."__  
_

* * *

Ysabelle sighed as she walked into her study room, still in the process of healing some superficial wounds she got during the mission.

"How did you get hurt?"

She jerked into a tensed position, relaxing a split second later when she realised that it was just Reborn.

"There was this guy -" _Multiple guys, actually._ "- who shot at me a couple of times." _A lot of times._

Reborn pulled down his fedora, which made his eyes look shadowed and in turn gave him a dangerous and mysterious look. Not that he wasn't already.

"Reborn, I know what you are thinking, but no." He just scowled and leaned on the study table beside him.

"They are now burned to a crisp, and their existence are completely wiped out in this world. Happy now?" She rolled her eyes at Reborn's seeming childishness – wanting to kill the ones who injured her with his own hands.

"That's fine. I would have preferred to put a few holes in them myself though." His smirk returned again, and Ysabelle just sighed exasperatedly, applying sun flames to her wounds.

He pulled her into a hug, and she let herself relax and lean into him.

"Just remember, I will always protect you, no matter what."

"Even if you have to go to hell to find those guys who grazed me with bullets?"

"Yes."

"Your honesty scares me sometimes."

She can almost feel the cocky smirk he had on.

"I know."

A comfortable silence enveloped them, until Reborn broke it.

"You promised not to take too long."

"And what exactly _is_ too long?"

"Making me wait."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"I am the number one hit-man in the whole world."

"And...?"

"And that's why people should never make me wait."

"Shut up, Reborn."

* * *

_Rioko stared up at the mansion in wonder. It was unlike any of the other mansions she saw in Japan; they were all one storey high and had a big yard, not to mention the tatami mats covering every inch of the floor._

_These mansions were tall and high, the gates were made of metal and not wood, the windows were made of glass and more importantly, the people were nice and friendly._

_They smiled at her, so she smiled at them too._

_"Come on, Rio. Let's go in." Her mother __smiled down at her gently, and she nodded her head enthusiastically._

_Making their way through corridor after corridor, she thought that the beige colour of the walls would never end, until they emerged into a section of the mansion in which the floors had red carpet and the walls had big portraits of people in them. It was standard; she saw the pattern in them after her and her mother passed the third picture._

_Each picture had their own set of rainbow colours. She could see it __– the orange one always sat in the middle, and the portraits always looked so... formal._

_Oh well. __"Where is Auntie Reika, Mama?" She questioned._

_Her mother smiled down at her. "Auntie Reika should be in the kitchen. We will go see her later; now we are meeting her husband, okay?"_

_She blinked, then smiled. "Okay!"_

_Before sh__e knew it, her mother and her had reached a set of big double doors, and her mother knocked respectfully._

_"Timoteo-san? I am back with my daughter, Rioko."_

_She pushed the door open, and Rioko rushed to follow her mother inside the well-lit room._

_Her mother nodded and smiled at the man who sat behind a big table with files and documents littering it. She hurriedly bowed too, and introduced herself like her mother always taught her to._

_"My name is Rioko, and I am five years old!" She beamed up at the man who seemed as kind and friendly as the people around the mansion. She had spoken in Japanese, as her mother spoke in Japanese just now too._

_The man chuckled, replying in Japanese. "What a little ball of energy you are, Rioko. I am sure all of us here will welcome you happily."_

_At the prospect of meeting new friends, she brightened up even more. "New friends, Mister? Thank you!"_

_She felt a hand on her head, and she looked up to see her mother patting her head, smiling that gentle smile she seemed to always have._

_"Timoteo-san, actually about the matter with my family... I take up your offer. The __one of __turning Rioko to be part of the Vongola..."_

_She looked up curiously, not understanding a word as her mother had suddenly switched language._

_The kind man who had offered her new friends nodded gravely. "They did something to Rioko?" He replied in the foreign language._

_"They kicked her out. I was lucky to get there in time." Another reply which had her tilting her head curiously._

_"I see..." The kind man turned back to her, smiling again. "Rioko," he started in Japanese. "How would you like a new name?"_

_Rioko blinked, then smiled. "A new name in the language Mister and Mama just spoke?"_

_He looked a little surprised, but more amused. "Yes."_

_"Yes, I want one, please!"_

_He chuckled. "Request granted. Hmm... Ysabelle."_

_She giggled. "Is that my new name, Mister?"_

_"Yes, indeed it is. You are now Ysabelle del Vongola, child."_

_She saluted with a small grin. "Yes sir!"_

_"Call me Uncle."_

_"Yes, Uncle!"_

* * *

Ysabelle sighed, tucking her legs under her chin. Reborn hadn't been back for two months. She refused to believe that he had just _disappeared_.

He wouldn't leave her.

She then smiled softly, a hand going automatically to her stomach.

Her baby.

_Their_ child.

But she couldn't go on like this. Not like this. She had to know where Reborn is. He had never been gone so long on a mission before.

Steeling her determination, she quickly stalked over to her study room, making herself comfortable on the chair in front of her super-computer.

Her eyes scanned the black screens, which instantly lit up the moment the chair recognised her fingerprints on the armrest.

She quickly got to work, doing what she did best – collecting information, analysing them, and tabulating them.

Dawn soon approached, and her back ached. But that was not the most painful part of her, so she ignored it.

She gasped as she soon found the results of her overnight information tabulating.

Seven other people in the Mafia have gone missing for the past two months. A boss of a Mafia family, a martial artist, an illusionist, a stuntman, a genius sniper of COMSUBIN, a soldier-slash-instructor of COMSUBIN, a scientist...and a hit-man.

_Her_ hit-man.

It seemed that Reborn would not be coming back any time soon.

She had to do something. If people caught wind of the news that she was carrying Reborn's child...

_No...__  
__  
__I must protect __our child__.__  
_  
It had been a pretty good idea at first, running away from her current life.

But for the best strategist in the world, it probably wasn't the best plan she could have came up with.

_Reborn, where are you?_

_You said you will protect me, no matter what._

_I am scared._

* * *

A/N: How was this chapter? Confusing? Rushed?

Reviews are fantastic.

Sorry for the wait for the next chapter. The next chapter is currently being beta-ed/edited, and it will be up soon.

Edited/Beta-ed: Immaangel

Thanks. This chapter would be a wreck without you.


	6. Chapter 4: Condition

A/N: Sorry for the wait!

Enjoy.

* * *

"Ee-e..." I scowled. Why was talking so hard again...

"Don't give up, Gio!" Fre cheered me on as usual, but my slow progress never failed to frustrate me. (Actually, it was pretty fast already, considering I was only just thirteen months old.)

The door clicked open, and the doctor I was starting to see as an eyesore walked in (what was his name again? Ev-something? Oh well.)

He whistled when he spotted me and Fre on the mat. "Heh, trying to teach our lil' princess how to speak? She won't be able to hold a proper conversation with you until she's at least two years old, boy."

Debbie Downer. I glared at him, but he didn't seem to take notice.

Fre pouted angrily. "Gio is making good progress! Don't be such a cold blanket, perverted doctor!" He stuck his tongue out at the doctor, and I could see that the doctor looked quite irritated now.

"Now, little idiot of a brat, don't you say that again, or I'll tattle to your Daddy when he comes by later..."

What he said next went over my head, since all I could do is just smirk inwardly (people would totally _run_ for their lives if they saw a smirking baby, so I was toning it down) and thought of just _how well Fre had been taught_ in the art of irritating adults.

And I was going to add fuel to the fire he started.

"I - I..." I fumbled over the vowels a bit, before willing my jaw to move in the right way.

"Idiot."

Everyone froze, and silence ensued.

Waves of anger caught my attention. The kind of reddish aura in which people gave off when they seemed really angry (Professor Williams seemed to constantly give off that kind of aura, so I could kind of sense this kind of... wave, I don't know, easily now), came from the door, and all I could think of was 'uh-oh'.

A positively smiling Timoteo, or Grandpa, as he had coaxed me into saying to him a few months ago (I actually successfully called him 'Nonno' a few months back), came in, and the door shut behind him with a threatening click.

_Erm... What?_

Suddenly, Grandpa's smile didn't look that welcoming any more.

"May I know who taught Gioia that word?"

_Oh._ I quickly latched onto Fre and hugged him tight. He didn't teach me this word, and I wasn't about to let him be punished.

It was just a word anyway.

Raising a finger, I pointed to the perverted doctor who seemed to be sweating buckets, and looking pale. As in, _very_ pale.

So, there was no harm in making him paler, right?

He did sort of imply that I was too stupid to learn how to talk. Plan set then, he was now officially in for Gioia's special hellish treatment.

"Idiot." I repeated once more, with a thumb in my mouth (feigning innocence is an art) and a finger pointing at the doctor.

He turned back to face me and Fre, and froze._ Traitor_, he mouthed at us, and I just gave him a deadpan look at him because I didn't recall us being allies.

"Old friend." The doctor turned back to face Grandpa, and smiled stiffly.

"Yes...?"

"Shall we take a walk to the training room?" Grandpa's voice left no room for discussion. A true Mafia boss, I guess.

"O-Of course." The doctor nodded stiffly, shot a glare at us and trudged out of the safety of the room unwillingly (because any sort of bloodshed was not allowed in front of children under the age of six).

Good luck, doctor. I hope you are still intact after this. It's only the beginning, after all.

* * *

"Nonno." I said, and a triumphant feeling filled me.

"Nonno, nonno, nonno." I repeated again, and Grandpa looked incredibly pleased.

"Good job, Gioia." He smiled at me, giving me a pat on the head. I cheered, and Fre pouted.

"Why can't Gio say my name, Daddy?"

Nonno (or Grandpa) patted Fre on the head.

"She will be able to do that soon." He promised Fre for me, and I patted his hand.

His smile back again, he grabbed my hand and played with my fingers, teaching me sign language (Fre, really?) until dinner was served.

I gurgled happily at the maid who served my dinner (because that was the only form of thanks I can get out), and she smiled back at me before excusing herself.

One of Fre's nannies fed me, and I took each bite with joy. (It was sort of a enjoy-while-you-can mindset, but I was always far more hopeful than that, so...)

During dinner, the quiet conversations in Italian always caught my attention. And while being this happy little baby having her dinner at the side, I couldn't help but eavesdrop too (let's just say it's a form of practice).

And what I heard tonight nearly made my heart stop.

"It's been a year already..." Enrico, the oldest brother of the three as I'd learned, started.

"Time passes fast when you are happy." Nonno replied simply.

"Are you implying that I was happy, old man?" Enrico bristled.

"Were you not?" Nonno replied, glancing up from his dinner.

Enrico gripped the silverware tightly in his hands. "It is her anniversary this coming Friday."

_Her anniversary? Who?_

"I am aware." Nonno replied, as he took in the abrupt subject change calmly.

"Is _she_ going?" He seemed to shoot a glare in my direction, and I quickly acted my part by taking another spoonful of porridge into my mouth.

"She is her child, I don't see any reason why not." Nonno looked up to look Enrico full in the face.

Enrico gritted his teeth. "That dumb baby is the reason why _she_ died." This time, he glared at me fully and openly, and I let my eyes meet his.

Dumb baby? There's only me around... Excuse me, but I am _not_ dumb. I furrowed my eyebrows and scowled at him.

He seemed surprised for a moment, then a smirk appeared on his face, and I could feel it. I could _feel _it again. The raw intent to kill.

The atmosphere that was suffocating me so much that night. _That night._

_He_ was giving off that intent. I felt my stomach drop, and a breath caught in my throat. My heart seemed to have to work doubly as hard as cold sweat slid off my brow. Fear crept into me, and I was aware of how black spots were dancing in my vision.

A loud bang caught my attention, and it subsequently cut off all the killing intent that the _bastard _was sending at me.

At me, who is a baby.

The black spots cleared up from my vision, and I was left trying to control my breathing and slow down my frantically beating heart.

Not good for the heart, definitely _not good_ for the heart.

The bang came from Nonno, who stood up abruptly and caused his chair to fall over. He was currently glaring at Enrico.

"Enrico, see me in my office."

He salvaged the remnants of his etiquette by wiping his mouth with his napkin, and stalked angrily out of the dining room.

Enrico remained silent, but similarly ditched his dinner and walked out of the room too.

Then again... whose anniversary...?

I was the reason someone died?

Suddenly, an image popped into my mind, and a sudden hollowness filled my being.

Mama.

Did they meant... Mother?

I resisted the urge to scream, and tears welled up in my eyes. I started breathing erratically again.

Mother was... dead? She was dead...

_...because of me?_

* * *

"Explain." Timoteo's rage had barely begun to abate.

"Explain what?" His son replied arrogantly, glaring at the wall behind Timoteo.

The silence that enveloped them seemed too much for either party to bear, but neither of them spoke.

"_Why_..." Timoteo started out slowly, emphasising the word. "You decided to start letting out your killing intent in the middle of dinner, and particularly aiming it at Gioia."

Enrico turned his gaze to Timoteo.

"I understand that you are upset with the departure of Ysabelle, but that does not give you a reason to take it out on her daughter."

Enrico clenched his fist. "I was _not_, as you put it, 'taking it out' on her daughter."

"Is that denial I hear?" Timoteo shot back, and Enrico felt himself losing his composure, his father's aura overpowering him.

"You are taking sides here, Father."

Timoteo went silent, then he drummed his fingers against the table. The office was dimly lit, as neither party had bothered to switch the lights on.

"When Ysabelle was still here, she always took your side when you began your various endeavours." He looked up at his son. "Why am I not allowed this privilege of spoiling my grandniece a little now?"

Enrico gritted his teeth. _Using _her_ against me was _low_._

A short moment of silence made the atmosphere thicker.

Timoteo then shattered the momentary silence.

"No matter. What I want to know is why you used-"

"How can you get over _her_ so easily?"

Timoteo looked up at the rude interruption by his son.

"How can you get over _her_ so easily?" His son whispered lowly, almost heartbreakingly.

Timoteo remained silent, allowing Enrico to continue.

His son collapsed into a plush chair, and ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.

"_How?_ I just can't. She means too much to me, _too much_. She was the one who stood by me when no one was there, she was the one who patted my head and told me 'well done' when I did well, she was the one who nursed me to health when I rejected all the doctors and nurses, she was the one..." His voice went from forte to a soft piano. "The one... who cared."

Timoteo rested his head against the headrest of his chair.

"Why? Just..._why_? Why did she die, dad?" Gone was the fearsome twenty-two year old heir of the Vongola famiglia; instead, he was replaced by a scared, wobbling child who was too afraid of the world and too comfortable in the darkness, only lured out by a single ray of light.

And just when he jumped up to grasp it, the ray of light disappeared, leaving him confused and lost.

"Why can all of you replace her so easily with one single child? She is not _her_, and will never be _her_."

A short silence overcame them again, and Timoteo felt that his son's outburst was over.

"Enrico." He began. "We did not replace Ysabelle." His son made no motion to continue.

"That child may look a lot like her, act like her, smile like her... And perhaps because everyone is reminded of Ysabelle every time they see her, that may be where all the protectiveness and familiarity comes from, but I want you to know, Enrico."

His son jerked up at the serious tone of his father.

"That Gioia is her own person, and that no one can ever replace Ysabelle in our hearts."

Timoteo then managed a small smile.

"Besides, you and I both know what Ysabelle would say in such a situation, son." Enrico blinked tiredly at his father, and a ghost of a smile spread slowly across his face.

"_She's family now._"

Timoteo smiled. "Yes. It might take a while to accept Gioia fully, but being willing to try is the key point. I am sure you will come to love her just the way she is, Enrico."

His son smiled drily. "I'm not so sure about that, pops." He then turned his eyes toward a picture on the wall beside him.

"But I'll definitely try, because that's what she'd want."

Timoteo nodded with a slight smile. "You'll see, Enrico."

A sudden flurry of knocks on the office door startled both of them, and Enrico quickly replaced his usual calm façade.

"Enter." Timoteo said, and Federico burst into the office, crying.

"Papa! Enrico!" He ran to them, and Timoteo stood up to receive his son, who clutched him like a lifeline.

"What's wrong, kid?" Enrico frowned as he took in the state of his youngest brother.

Federico hiccupped and continued crying, shaking his head. His tears seeped into the fabric of Timoteo's clothes, and Timoteo patted him on the back soothingly.

"Now, now. You have to say what is troubling you, or we won't know."

Federico made a noticeable effort to dry his tears and stop crying, but the tears kept coming. He sniffed again, and after a few long minutes, his tears slowed to the occasional whimper.

"Gioia... Gioia suddenly collapsed after Daddy and Enrico left."

* * *

"Breathe, child, breathe!" Evan whispered urgently, keeping an eye on the monitor displaying the weak heartbeat of the toddler beside him, lying lifelessly on the operation table.

There were no symptoms before – the girl just suddenly collapsed at the dinner table, startling everyone around her. He had been immediately called to the Vongola Estate, and chased away the young boy who always seemed to be sticking to the toddler.

The girl's condition, as the Ninth had mentioned to him before, was very similar to her mother's. And he prided himself on being Ysabelle's personal doctor. So he was _not_ going to fail at saving her daughter, not now.

"Her pulse is getting weaker, doctor!" A nurse reported, and he gritted his teeth.

_Similar to Ysabelle, similar to Ysabelle..._

"Get out of the room, everyone." The three nurses currently present looked back at him in shock, the kind of _are-you-serious-'cause-we-might-get-fired-it's-not-just-you _look.

Evan glared. "Get. Out." The three nurses scrambled out of the room, and he turned his attention back to the barely breathing toddler.

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he concentrated on searching for any sign of flames in her body, and tsk-ed when he found none.

The stupid toddler had gone into shut down mode and stopped supplying her own body with sun flames.

He nearly face-palmed, but decided that he had better save the girl first. Frowning, he concentrated again, and allowed his own sun flames to flow into her body to support her heart and lungs.

As he felt his flames encompass the organ, his eyes widened at the feeling of a warm, foreign source of sun flames flowing out of the toddler.  
_  
__'Her father is Reborn, as I found out from the letter Ysabelle left me.'_

The memory of Timoteo telling him the truth of the kid's father invaded his mind, and he smirked.

_This kid will be one strong freak when she grows up._

He then looked back down at the scrunched up, pained expression of the child. He felt the flames drawn out from the girl's body enveloping her own organs, and he let out a breath of relief as the monitor indicated her steady pulse.

_Work hard, kid. And one day, you'll surpass your mother._

* * *

Massimo walked out of the gaming room, and shut the door with a sigh.

He had just received news that the little princess of Vongola had fallen ill, and was currently resting in the emergency ward of the infirmary. His father had just issued the order that all immediate family of Vongola had to be in the waiting room opposite the infirmary in five minutes.

_Sometimes I think Dad is unreasonably strict. The infirmary is ten minutes away from the gaming room, and he knows that._

He could almost hear his father's voice berating him. _"Massimo, I did tell you not to coop yourself up in the gaming room, right?"_

With another sigh, Massimo settled into light jog to the infirmary. All the way situation in the_ West wing_._ Just who was the one who designed the Vongola Estate? _he thought grouchily as he sped up.

Within minutes, he was panting lightly and knocking on the door of the waiting room. One muffled "come in" later, he entered the room.

Massimo tried to fight down a blush when he saw that everyone (meaning his older brother, his father, his father's guardians and his younger brother) was already there and waiting for him. He then caught his little brother's eye.

"Fre! Why are you crying?" Massimo took two long strides to where his little brother was sniffling. He immediately took his brother's small form in a hug.

"Shh... It's fine, it will be fine." He whispered and patted Federico's back. Massimo turned his gaze up to meet his father's, and gave a barely noticeable nod, to signify that he was ready for the meeting.

His father nodded back and leaned forward slightly.

"As we all know, Gioia is in the emergency room, undergoing treatment from Doctor Evan, my long time friend." Timoteo started, and Massimo settled into one of the empty plush chairs with a still-sniffling Federico in his lap.

"I have a few things I need to say concerning her." A deep frown was on Timoteo's features, and he leaned back against the chair.

"First, she has a health condition very similar to Ysabelle's," Enrico turned his gaze from the mural painting on the wall to his father.

"Second, her heart and lungs are too weak for her to even survive, and all the while, her own sun flames were the only thing that kept her alive."

"That's not possible." Enrico interjected, shock embodied in his features.

Timoteo nodded gravely. "Indeed that isn't supposed possible, but it has happened. Gioia has a strong compatibility with sun flames, and if someone uses sun flames on her, her own sun flames can be drawn out to imitate what the first source of flames were doing."

Silence took over the whole room, and even Federico stopped sniffling to glance at the serious looks the other family members of his had on.

"That's dangerous." Enrico broke the silence.

"It can be helpful too." Massimo added thoughtfully.

Timoteo nodded. "In this case, it is helpful. Evan has just informed me that Gioia's body reacted to his sun flames, and is now supporting her on its own."

Federico blinked and tilted his head. "How is Gioia's ability dangerous, Daddy?"

Timoteo frowned. "It gives her a weak point. A weakness in which if anyone finds out she has, she'll be dead."

Federico blinked, and tears welled up in his eyes once more. Massimo hurried to dry the five-year-old's tears. "Shh... it's fine if no one knows, yeah?"

Timoteo nodded gravely. "That is indeed the case, but it will make her already vulnerable state... further weakened. Flames are supposed to be drawn out of one's body when they have a strong resolve. Gioia is only a one-year-old, so it is impossible for her to draw out her own flames consciously."

Enrico nodded, deep in thought. "So that is why we came to the conclusion that her body is very compatible to sun flames, so much so that her own sun flames are drawn out when another source of sun flames are released into her body."

Massimo caught on, and continued to absently pat Federico's back in an attempt to soothe him. "But Dad, you said that lil' princess's sun flames mimic what the initial source of sun flames do..."

Timoteo sighed. "Yes. And that's why it is dangerous. If someone with ill intent releases sun flames into her body in an attempt to kill her, or if someone releases sun flames into her in the wrong way..."

"She would literally kill herself, because her own sun flames would be drawn out to mimic what the initial source of sun flames is doing." Evan continued for Timoteo as he stepped into the waiting room.

"So basically, she is a threat to herself. And that is the biggest threat anyone could even encounter in the Mafia." Enrico concluded.

Federico quickly looked up when he heard Evan's voice, and jumped out of Massimo's lap.

"How is Gioia?!" He latched to the doctor's left leg, biting his lower lip in an attempt to stop himself from bawling once more.

The doctor just smirked. "Who do you think I am? She's perfectly fine and well in the ward, but visitors will not be allowed for two days because of observation purposes."

Timoteo stood up and shook hands with Evan. "Thank you so much, old friend."

"Anything for you, Timoteo." Evan nodded at him, and took a seat in one of the chairs.

Federico clambered back into Massimo's lap, and sat in an upright position, determined to listen about his little sister's condition.

"But I have a solution for this situation." Evan started, and Timoteo gestured for him to continue.

"Keep up the defence and protection for a few years until she is at a trainable age. Give her training as soon as possible so that she can learn to control her sun flames. If she learns how to control what is within her, she will be able to directly affect, or perhaps even control her compatibility with sun flames. Then, she wouldn't accidentally become a victim of herself." Evan proposed, crossing his arms over his chest.

Timoteo pondered it silently. "It is not a fool-proof plan."

"It is not." Evan agreed. "But you have to say that it's the best we have right now."

Timoteo let out a resigned sigh. "I know. We just have to keep anyone else from knowing about this ability of hers."

Evan nodded. "For now, let's put this matter to rest. What I am interested in knowing is what happened during dinner."

Timoteo turned his gaze to Evan. "Why would you want to know?"

Evan sighed dramatically. "My ward's ability is infinite; it goes on and on and on, until she runs out of her own sun flames, which is not possible at her age now, considering her large flame capacity. That would mean that she cut the connection of her sun flames to her body either consciously or subconsciously, in which I will take the latter, because the first is impossible with how she is unaware."

"Now then, what would cause her to cut off her link subconsciously?" He drawled, turning his gaze to the wall behind Timoteo.

"Well?" he urged.

"I unleashed my killing intent on her." Enrico admitted, and averted his gaze to the floor.

Evan slammed his fist onto the top of the coffee table, causing it to split into two in the middle, startling almost everyone in the room except Timoteo himself.

"If you, the princess's own family, can't even bother to take good care of her, and instead aimed your killing intent at her,_ who _can be trusted to take care of her?" Evan stated calmly, waves of angry killing intent rolling off him.

Federico gripped Massimo's shirt tightly, eyes wide and afraid. Massimo just thinned his lips and remained unmoving in his seat, gripping Federico and bringing the child close to himself.

Evan then took a deep breath, and subdued his own aura.

After a few silent seconds in the tense atmosphere, Evan spoke.

"Take good care of her. I still owe Ysabelle a favor, and I believe all of you do too, especially you." He shot a glance at Enrico, who froze in fear by the side.

Evan stormed out of the room, and Timoteo sighed.

_"You still have a lot to learn before you become Vongola Decimo, Enrico."_

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for reading!**

**Edited/Beta-ed: Immaangel**

**Thanks, friend!**

**Please leave a review!**


	7. Chapter 5: Waves

**A/N: Just to make things clear:**

**Nono – Ninth**

**Nonno – Grandpa**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

I woke up to the sounds of a piano playing.

Blinking, I tried to sit up but remembered I couldn't _because I am a baby_. Joy.

I looked up at the ceiling, and it wasn't a pleasant sight. Everything was white, and non of my favourite (yes they became my favourite) starfishes, clams, whales, and other sea creatures glow-in-the-dark stickers were in sight. So... I am not in my room.

Suddenly, the piano stopped playing, and I turned my head to look at my side, where I think the piano sound is coming from. It wasn't my usual crib too. The smell in this room makes me feel nauseous.

"Gioia!" A scraping sound was heard as I saw a blurry figure make its way to me. I blinked a few more times, and saw Fre in front of me.

"Gioia...!" He looks like he's going to burst into tears any moment.

_What. I am not_ dead.

My eyes widened, as memories rushed through me.

_Dead...? Mother...is dead?_

Shock froze my body.

"Gio-Gioia...are you okay? I-I'll go call the doctor!" He rushed off, and left me.

A sudden hollowness filled me again; a feeling that is familiar to me, but something I can never get used to.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I recalled – long blond waves, emerald green eyes.

But I can't remember her face any more.

Tears escaped, and I clenched my eyes shut.

_Mama... Why?_

From the short time I spent with mother, she had always been gentle and kind. No one has ever been nice to me before. She was the first one. Why is it _always_ like this? Just _why?_

And now, I can't even remember her face any more.

I am the worst. The worst of the worst.

I am such a jerk to myself. _Why did I press that button? Why did I arrive here? Wha-_

A sudden horror descended upon me as it dawned on me.

_Wha-What happened...to the person who was supposed to be Gioia? T-The real...rightful Gioia...?_

_I am the worst kind of person. I am /such/ a-a... No word bad enough can describe me._

_I shouldn't have came here._

The real Gioia – the right soul who was supposed to get this body – where is she?

_I am a horrible, _horrible_ person._

That Gioia should have been the one to taste mother's kindness, listen to mother hum her to sleep and have mother's warm hands carry her.

Not me.

Maybe if it was that Gioia, mother would have been able to escape that shot.

Maybe she would still be alive, and they would live happily together somewhere peaceful.

_I am the worst person in this whole wide world. Even across time._

I vaguely felt tears rolling down my cheeks. Again.

_I am sorry..._

* * *

"Ya' an idiot."

"Stop with the accent, will you?"

Massimo winked at his older brother. "Accent makes words alive."

Enrico snorted, but kept silent as he trained his eyes on the screen and gripped the controller tightly.

"Hey, bro, ya' breaking ma' controller." Massimo paled slightly at the thought of his limited edition R.E.D. controller dying in the hands of his brother.

Silence took over them when Enrico refused to reply, and Massimo sighed.

"Did what Mr. Evan say bother you?"

Enrico stiffened, but continued on with the game, narrowly avoiding Massimo's character's punch.

"So what if it did?" Enrico replied bitterly. "I am not family-oriented, so I can't protect them well. Why don't pops just pass on _my_ birthrights to you? You will do a better job than me at organising family outings and playing with kids."

Massimo let out a dramatic sigh as he unleashed a combo-kick on Enrico's character.

"K.O, bro." Massimo drawled as the game ended.

Enrico frowned, and carelessly threw the controller on the ground. He then leaned back on the beanbag he is sitting on, and loosened his tie, sighing.

"Bro. I don't want your birthrights. That's just plain stupid. I just want to stay in this room, play games, have fun, listen to Fre about his endeavours, maybe teach the lil' princess how to write and draw, and listen to you about your encounters with stupid Mafia bosses from around the world." Massimo stole a glance at Enrico, who is relaxing on the beanbag, staring up at the ceiling. But Massimo knows that he is listening.

Massimo crossed his legs and straightened his back, looking up at the ceiling. "The way you push Fre to his limits during trainings, the way you play games with me once in a while, the way you phrase your words so carefully so that they wouldn't accidentally mean bad to dad or something, the way you always try to push through your limits so that you can get better... Aren't they all subtle acts of loving family? You don't have to be vocal when you love them, bro."

"I don't." Enrico replied, glaring at the ceiling. "I don't, that's why. All of these actions...are for my benefit."

"Yeah, and pigs will fly, bro. They may be for your benefit, but I know that the other party will always get the most out of it, even if they don't realise." Massimo smiled when he saw the conflicting emotions flitting through his brother's eyes.

"You just have to let loose sometimes, bro. Just because you are going to be the tenth boss, it doesn't mean you have to take up all the pressure by yourself. I mean, it's cool and all, but chill down." Massimo grabbed a packet of potato chips from the side of the couch, and opened it.

Enrico remained silent, almost sulking.

"Of course you don't have to sing the Barney 'I love you' song to everyone. I mean, you don't see dad and Coyote hugging and singing that cursed song everyday, yeah?"

A crooked, amused smile came upon Enrico's lips. "Maybe they do that as a secret morning ritual."

Massimo burst out laughing. "You nailed it, bro." He smothered his laughter, and a side of his lips tilted up. "So..." Enrico turned his gaze from the ceiling to him.

"It's okay to not say it out. People know it. _They know._ So, no pressure there, bro. It's fine."

Enrico let out a breath. He opened his mouth, seeming as he wanted to say something, but paused as he thought better of it. After awhile, he spoke.

"I screwed up though."

A light smile came on to Massimo's face. "Everyone screws up sometimes, even dad. You may be the in-line for the Tenth, but that doesn't take away your right to screw up sometimes."

Massimo chuckled at the conflicted look on his older brother's face. "You know, lil' princess reminds me of Auntie. I am sure everyone is reminded of Auntie when they see her."

Enrico twitched at the mention of Ysabelle, but did not allow himself further movement.

"It's okay to mourn over her, Enrico. It's really okay to. But overtime, let her go, please. Dad always said to focus on the present."

"You mean she's a gift to us?" A smile came on Enrico's face – and it was small and just plain exhausted, maybe even a little mocking.

Massimo raised an eyebrow. A lop-sided smile then came upon his face.

"Yeah, you can say that."

* * *

Evan sat in his office, silent and deep in thought. It was late, a little past midnight. The only light illuminating the room is the desk lamp.

A knock caught his attention, and the person on the other end of the door let himself in.

A dry smile came upon Evan's face, and he swept his black hair out of his eyes.

"Yo, Timoteo. What calls you to my...humble office?" Evan raised both his eyebrows, and leaned back in his chair.

Timoteo chuckled. "Anything by the Vongola should not be counted as 'humble', my friend." Evan just smirked lightly. "Thanks for the built-in though. I can supervise the princess' condition better now."

Timoteo allowed a smile to cross his face. "No problem, Evan." Then a grave look came upon his face.

"I wanted to ask you for a favor. A few, actually."

Evan sighed. "You know I can never reject you, friend. Go on."

"First, don't tell anyone of who Gioia's father is." Evan narrowed his eyes.

"Is that one of Ysabelle's requests?"

"My niece has a hidden flair for the dramatics." A wry smile came onto Timoteo's face. "She insisted on hiding this fact from him for as long as possible, and letting Gioia say it for herself when she's ready."

Evan nodded. "Don't worry. If you want to confirm it, I can do an omertà for you now."

Timoteo shook his head lightly. "I trust you, Evan."

A corner of Evan's lips tilted up. "Trust comes at a high price, and even more so in the Mafia, Timoteo. Are you sure?"

Timoteo just chuckled. "But you paid the price, didn't you?"

Evan raised an amused brow. "Very well then."

"Even if you wanted to leak it out, you still owe Ysabelle a favour, friend. At least on account of that..." Timoteo's eyes glinted in the desk lamp's glow, and he allow a small smirk to go on his lips.

"Next." Evan said, and turned away from Timoteo with a turn of his comfortable plush turning chair.

"...I know that look on your face, Evan. What have you found out about Gioia?"

The atmosphere turned thick, and both parties stayed silent.

"I was thinking of compiling it into a report, but I guess you are worried, huh..." Evan paused, then turned to the laptop on his desk. He typed something in it, and the screen lighted up. Timoteo's gaze turned from the back of his chair to the screen, which was filled with gibberish letters he did not want to understand.

"She... Her condition isn't just _similar _to Ysabelle." Timoteo turned his attention back to Evan.

"It's much worse."

* * *

Timoteo frowned as he looked through the folder Evan just printed out for him two hours ago.

It is very late, almost bordering dawn now, but the man did not care as he looked through the pages.

"Dad, you called?" Massimo entered the room, and suppressed a yawn.

"Sorry for calling you up so late, son. I had to. We have to wait for Enrico now then." Massimo nodded and sat down.

"Dad. Massimo." Enrico nodded at the occupants in his dad's office, and slipped in quietly, closing the door behind him. He settled into the space next to Massimo on the couch.

"What do you need us for, dad?" Massimo started.

Timoteo snapped his file shut, and handed it to Massimo. The second son raised his eyebrows, but flipped through it. His eyes widened.

"This..." Enrico peeked over Massimo's shoulder, and raised his eyebrows.

"A _fiamma-onda_ scan? Who's?" Enrico questioned.

"It's Gioia's." Timoteo raised his cup of tea and sipped it. "I called you here because you are the main creator of the _fiamma-onda_ scan system, Massimo. Now, do you mind deciphering the flame waves of Gioia?"

A serious glint adorned Massimo's eyes and his eyes traced the ink on the paper, taking in every little detail.

"This is bad. This is really bad, Dad." Massimo 'tch-ed', and placed the file on the table.

"If anyone, and I mean _anyone_ from the Mafia, other than us, found out about this, lil' princess won't be here any more." Massimo is practically shaking.

"Just...just what the hell, dad. I think Auntie gave birth to a flame machine." Enrico slapped his younger brother's head. Hard.

"Don't you dare call her child a flame machine."

"I-I am sorry. I am sorry." Massimo apologised, but the furrow in his eyebrows was still obvious. "She..." His finger traced the body outline printed on the paper.

"Okay. First of all, I'll start from the basics. Everyone has flame waves in their body. It just depends on whether it is too weak to be ever used, or if it is trained enough to show. The Mafia has discovered flames hundreds, or maybe more years back, even before Vongola Primo's time. But research for the flames didn't happen until about half a century back, so we are still pretty much on nothing."

Timoteo and Enrico listened intently to the rarely-serious seventeen years old teen.

"Then I gathered our limited information, and created this flame waves scan machine based on my own hypothesised theories about flames. And this machine was successfully created." Massimo let out a breath.

"People...are not known to have more than one type of flame. There are seven types. And even having two is rare, like Auntie's case. But this..." Massimo stared at the piece of paper in wonder.

"It's impossible. Nearly impossible. Never heard of." He traced the bright yellow line which seem to circulate inside the body outline.

"Lil' princess has the sun flame type. And you can see that it is much stronger than a normal person." Massimo let out a breath. "Not so strong as dad's sun guardian, but strong enough. The F.O.M measured it to be...twenty-five percent of her waves."

Timoteo looked at the folder gravely. "Twenty-five percent, and already strong enough?"

Massimo nodded. "Definitely."

Then his finger went to the purple line, circulating inside the body outline. "This one, is even more terrifying." Massimo visibly swallowed, and Enrico reached over to the side table to get a glass of water.

"Thanks." He downed half the glass of water, and continued.

"She has stronger cloud flames than her sun flames. Thirty-five percent of her waves, approximately." Massimo traced the purple line, then his finger moved to point at a thinner, indigo line.

"This, is fifteen percent of her waves. It is pretty logical that she got this; Auntie had mist flames too. She probably won't be able to do much, unless she decides to train it very hard, which is not advisable with her health condition."

"And then her forth wave..." A green line went around, only circulating back and forth between her hands, unlike the other coloured lines which goes all around within the body outline.

"She has the lightning wave too. The last twenty-five percent of her waves."

Silence overcame them.

"...Shit. That's a lot."

"A lot." Massimo agreed dryly. He then turned more serious. "It's too much. If she had a healthy body, she would grow up to be the greatest flame user in the whole world, but." Massimo sipped his water. "She doesn't." He smiled wryly. "You can say that these waves will be her greatest ability but worst curse to her, ever."

Timoteo placed his empty cup on the coffee table. "What do you mean, Massimo?"

He sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Dad, her heart will never be strong enough to support her body. It's like a direct proportion logic. As her age goes up, her heart will get stronger too. But the rate at which her heart and lungs gets strengthened is too low compared to the rate she grows up, so she'll forever have to depend on sun flames to support her weak organs, and to make it work. If she ever forgoes it like what happened last week at dinner, she won't be able to last."

Massimo took a pen out from his pocket and started scribbling mathematical formulae and complicated sums on a piece of paper.

_A sign of being nervous or anxious,_ both the oldest son and father recognised in the back of their minds.

"But her sun flames can only get her so far. Yes, cloud flames have similar properties too, but it can't work. One day, she'll exhaust herself for continually using her sun flames non-stop, even if it's subconsciously, for long periods of time. And then when that time comes, in the worst case scenario, she dies. Unless someone finds a way to save her. Hook her up on eternal IV drips and futuristic machines which can support her heart and lungs, I don't know."

He scribbled even more furiously now, filling up the page quickly.

"But, doesn't she has the compatibility with sun – "

"That will backfire too. Her sun flames will be too exhausted of it's resources and probably can't be touched on for awhile. If someone actually inputs sun flames into her and in turn, calls out _her_ sun flames, she'll be gone. She will then literally kill herself off already. We might not know much about the flames, but we do have a confirmed fact that exhaustion of flames lead to death."

Enrico bit the insides of his cheeks. He had not yet fully accepted the baby, but no one deserved such a fate.

"So now, to put it bluntly, she's orchestrating her own death. She's the conductor, and in any time she decides to put down the baton or even drop it accidentally, the band will stop, and the music will end." _Her weak organs will stop working, and her life will end._

Massimo finished his glass of water, and fumbled with the pen to start working on his scribbled mess of complicated letters and numbers.

"We don't know how long she can last. Doctor Evan knows this, right? About her waves. He knew it and he suggested for her to be trained. There's no choice in this. She _has to be_ trained. She will never be able to use hundred percent of her ability, and she might only be able to train up to three types, and she might _di__e_ when she's training-" Enrico placed a hand on Massimo's shoulder.

"Calm down, Massimo."

They all froze as they heard a creak, and the door opened.

"W-What do you mean tha-that... Gio..." A blond boy in pyjamas stepped into the room, and his control on his aura slipped in the presence of his family members.

Everyone relaxed slightly, and Timoteo beckoned Federico to sit beside him.

"P-Papa, why are all of you talking like Gio is going to-to..."

"Fre..." Massimo's eyes softened at the sight of his younger brother.

"I am sorry, Fre. I am so sorry... Even at a time like this, I can't even say anything positive or good or help about her condition..." Enrico squeezed his shoulder slightly in a comforting manner.

"It's not your fault, Massimo." Timoteo smiled tiredly. "You are trying your best too."

"Fre will try his best too, so don't look so sad,_ fratellone_! I am sure... I am sure that Gio's sickness can be cured! Gio still has to walk, to talk properly, to play games with us, to jog with me, to study with me..." Federico ticked off each point with his fingers, effectively lightening the mood.

"Y-You're right, Fre. I will find a way. I will definitely find a way to save her..."

Federico beamed at him, then yawned. "I am sure... We'll be Gio's knights..."

Enrico felt a pang in his heart as he heard the conversation between his two younger brothers. He had clearly been excluded by Federico, and he himself couldn't find any excuse within him to deny that he had not been the best older brother to his youngest brother. They were always at odds because of Enrico's harsh words and ways. And now that be realised his fault, his brother will never accept him again.

Which is why Enrico is very surprised at the next words of his youngest brother.

"We'll all be Gio's knights..." He snuggled against his father. "Daddy, me, Massimo and Enrico. We'll fight the monster who is trying to steal Gio away."

Enrico decided not to point out that the monster is actually Gioia and her waves and abilities itself, since he was busy being rejoiced over the fact that his youngest brother had given him a chance.

Massimo shot a tired smile at Enrico that seems to say 'there's-your-chance-bro-and-don't-screw-up-again-cause-you-already-did-and-there's-no-excuse-to-do-it-again'.

Enrico shot him a half-hearted glare, and his eyes trailed back to his youngest brother, who is now asleep against his father's chest.

Maybe, just maybe, he can believe that the new princess of the Vongola is a gift, after all.

* * *

**A/N: Done. Please tell me if it gets confusing.**

**Reviews are lovely.**


	8. Chapter 6: Resolve

**A/N: Enjoy.**

* * *

I feel numb. But then again, isn't this what I've always dreamed of?

Change.

I will be a hypocrite if I did complain now. I should have known that everything comes with a price. Just like how the price of having a roof over your head is to be an experimental subject of the Williams, how momentary peace is to suffer more pain later on, how escaping reality is to have harsher consequences when you get caught again...

I should have known.

Really, Juliette, you are such an idiot.

* * *

"Hey, kid."

_What...? _I opened my eyes and blinked blearily. Making a sound, I turned my head to see a dark figure above me.

It sat down on the chair beside me, and I vaguely recognised the room I am in. The same big white room, with a machine hooked up to me and a piano at the corner of the room. Though now it just looks blackish, because there's no direct light source.

"Do you recognise me?" I blinked blearily at the figure again, my brain starting to race just to translate and make sense of the fluent Italian coming out of the person's mouth.

I made a noise, and the figure seem to be slightly amused.

"Sorry that I woke you up in the middle of the night. In an hour or something, it's going to be your dawn feeding time of the day, and I guess a little earlier is okay?" My brain raced again, and I scrunched up my nose._ Can he _not_ talk so fast?_

I heard him take a deep breath. "We didn't get officially introduced yet in the past year you have been here. My name is Enrico, Gioia." I chewed my lower lip. _If I remembered correctly, he should be the one who let out the killing intent on me in the middle of dinner, then._

_Also the one who mentioned Mama's anniversary._

I shut my eyes tight, and I heard him sigh. "Look here, kid, I am sorry. I am sorry that you got like this because of me. I shouldn't have done that." He admitted, and I slowly cracked open an eye. I can't see his expression, but his tone was...earnest. Somehow.

_But he didn't get me like this because of the intent thing... It was my shock. My shock at knowing Mama had really died that night..._ I felt a pang in my heart, and the remorse and guilt I felt when I first found out hit me with another new wave again.

_I shouldn't even be here._

"You probably don't understand what I am saying now – " _I actually do...? Somehow._ " – and it may all be for nothing, but just...listen, okay?"

I blinked at him and tilted my head slightly. A tired smile made it's way to his lips.

"Thank you. Thank you and sorry... I – I found something important to me. Something that Ysabelle, your mother had wanted me to know for a long time..." _My...mother?_

"She... She wrote a letter to pops. Pops just showed it to me just now, and well... I... I am glad pops trusted me enough to show that letter to me." His hand came down to pat my head lightly.

"She mentioned in the letter that you are her joy and happiness." His eyes was shadowed by the darkness of the room, but with the minimum light and glow from the machine beeping annoyingly at my side, I can see his lower half of the face. A contented smile flitted across his lips.

"She said you'll grow up to be a great woman." My eyes widened.

_But I am not her Gioia... How can you say that when you don't know who I really am, Mama?__Do I even have the right to call you 'mother'?_

"She said a lot of sappy stuff that's so like her. She loved you. So much that she was willing to sacrifice herself to save you in a heartbeat."

Images flashed through my mind like a video being played out. A body which was once lively and warm gradually getting colder as it shielded me from the reality of the world around me...

My eyes watered.

His voice took on a playful tone. "So don't die on us while under the Vongola's care, kid. She was a really important person to me, so I won't allow it. I am not gonna send you up there to accompany her. She might just come down just to whack me on how I didn't take good care of my family..." My heart skipped a beat.

_Gioia's family._

"She was a special woman. She taught me lots of things. Now it's your turn, kid." I heard a quiet sniff.

Is he _crying_?

A tear escaped from my eye too, and I blinked, causing more tears to fall.

He chuckled. "Why... Why are you crying too, kid?" His voice sounded weak, like he was about to breakdown. His calloused hand wipe a tear away.

"I am so weak as I am right now... But I swear I'll get stronger, kid. I'll get strong enough to protect my family." He let out another chuckle. "The past me would've never said this crap about family."

He leaned back on his chair. "Do you know, kid? I was this brainless kid who thinks that his duty is just to be the boss of his family. But then the kid grew up one day after he realised something a smaller kid helped reveal."

He gave me a small smile.

"I really love my family, and I'll protect them with my life." His eyes softened, and I sniffed, feeling a familiar sour feeling clog up my nose again.

"You are family now, that's what Ysabelle would have said. And you do anything for your family in the Vongola, kid." He smiled softly.

"Thank you. If you never came, I would've never got the chance to realise this...and I wouldn't have got the chance to improve the relationship between Federico and me." He breathed out a resigned sigh.

"Massimo really was right. You _are _a gift to the Vongola... Don't let your mother down, kid. She expects you to grow up to be a 'great woman' after all." He said in a teasing tone (the I-will-always-see-you-as-a-little-girl-mwahahaha kind of tone).

He glanced at his watch. "Whoops. I should leave now. Talk to ya' next time, kid." He smirked with that underlying playful intent. "Maybe when you _can_ talk."

He left, and strangely, I didn't feel rage at what he implied about my intelligence level.

Maybe I really was here for a reason. He said that mother loved me.

I love her, too.

I... I can't change any of this. These are the consequences I get for running from reality, from the Williams. This is what I get, and it will be what I have from now on. A life I stole from an innocent soul, the one who was supposed to be Gioia.

I swear, I _swear_ I'll make this better. I'll make the most out of this life which was so generously given to me, and make sure that I fulfil my purpose in this world. Gioia's purpose. Mama's sacrifice would not be wasted.

I'll _make sure _I grow up to be a 'great woman' like she said.

_I'll be fine.__It's okay._ I feel a weigh lift from my chest, and I managed a small, genuine smile to myself for the first time in these past few days.

_I will do this properly, Mama. I probably don't deserve to call you that, but...I will allow myself to hope. _My smile twisted into a bitter one.

_Hope that you will forgive me for stealing your real daughter's body away, and claiming it as my own. That you will forgive me for claiming Gioia's identity as my own._

I feel lighter suddenly, as I reached this conclusion.

_It will be fine. What's not possible after escaping into the past from the future?_

A fuzzy, warm feeling filled me, and I feel hope rise up in me once more.

_J__ules __– __no. Gioia, it will be fine. Hoping is the only thing that is constant to you now, so you can't stop. You have went this far, and you will go on._  
_  
__I won't waste your life away. I won't forget the people who fought for me to live. Mama, I hope you can hear me. Thank you._

Light flooded my room, and one of Fre's nannies walked in holding a bottle of milk. I will myself to give her a big grin and a happy giggle (topped with clapping hands), and she smiled back at me.

I am hopeful for a better life.

After all, my wish for change has been granted. It may be hard, but I know I will be okay. It will be okay...

I am hopeful for a better, more fulfilling life, after all.

* * *

It is another new day again. I am finally released from The Beeping Machine aka Will, and The Whitest Room That Was Ever Created or Painted White aka Whitey. (When you are a toddler and stuck in a white room, you can't help but want to have some fun.)

Fre came often, and to my delight, plays the piano for me every time he came. I must say, he's pretty talented. But can he _not_ play lullabies?

I think this body size is getting to me. The baby whims are going to be the end of my mental state one day.

Enrico only came once after that night, and it was with Nonno, Fre and another tall, big, lean guy named Massimo. I often saw his sitting beside Enrico during dinner time, but I never did see him much outside of mealtimes.

Fre, as usual, talked to me normally as I gave out my baby-ish response. I learned that that Mass-guy (I'll just call him that until I think of a better name...) is his second eldest brother.

By the looks of how Enrico and Fre can exchange a few words civilly (they used to glare daggers at each other whenever they pass by each other from what I saw, and from what Fre said to me too) and the lighter mood I can see Enrico in, they patched up. At least a bit.

"So, so, I want to be Gio's knight!" I blinked down at Fre, and Nonno, who is currently holding me while walking down the wide hallway, chuckled.

He blinked owlishly at me. "Can I?" I scrunched up my nose and turned away to look outside a window, and Mass-guy laughed boisterously at the really disappointed expression of Fre.

"Shut up, Massimo!" Fre glared, and harrumphed. "One day, I'll get strong enough so that Gio can accept me as her knight!"

"Then I'll be her first knight then." Enrico cut in smoothly, then faced me while walking backwards. He bowed slightly, in a mocking sort of way, then straightened up and held up his arms in a way when adults wanted hugs.

I blinked at him, then held out my arms instinctively (the adults always take turns holding me, and they do that action when they transfer me over, so...) to him. He took me over from Nonno's arms, and I quickly adjusted to get a comfortable spot.

He is slightly taller than Nonno, and holds me in a different style. I fiddled with his tie and decided to clench his shirt in my hands as support, since I feel a little too short (both in arm-length wise and height) to put my arms around his neck.

Fre pouted, and Massimo and Nonno smiled at how they are acting.

It's a really nice feeling, almost as if I am part of them...

I _am_ part of them, aren't I?

Silly. I started to giggle, and Enrico looked surprised at my sudden action. He then met my eye, then smiled and let out a chuckle.

Fre's pout wavered, and he looked at us curiously, before bursting into a bright grin.

A warm feeling trickled into my being.

Is this how a family is like?

It's...really nice.

* * *

Fre and I share nannies. And...erm, that's sort of a very bad thing...?

The nanny which I have seen the most, a slightly old, kind lady is the best. She doesn't coo over me like some other maids around the estate does.

Estate, because they have a big backyard, their own car park, countless doors and wide hallways in the house. Playgrounds and fitness corners for children are built in the backyard.

"Put your hand through here." The kind nanny (I'll just call her er...NN, for Nice Nanny.) guided me through wearing this...this_ thing_.

It is Fre's birthday today, with how he excitedly skipped into my room and announced it this morning.

Nonno is holding a small-scale party (what /is/ his definition for 'small' anyway...) for immediate family members only, so that means that the people present will probably be the del Vongola. Nonno did say he is going to give his guardians a day of break...or something like that. Couldn't catch it.

I bit my lower lip and tried to pull myself up, making a strangled don't-touch-me noise at NN when she tried to help me. She smiled at me, and stood at the side, watching my progress.

Okay, Gioia, you can do this. Take note of your weight, normal reaction, friction, air resistance and internal muscular force. Recall, recall, how did humans walk again...? Oh yes, er... Law of action, Newton's third law. Or was it forth? Oh, it was the third...

I gripped the edge of the low cabinet tightly, and moved my right leg forward by bringing up my knee. The inertia of the body is changed by the horizontal component of the propulsive force. Then er... Something about the centre of gravity. I really need to brush up on physics.

I shot an evil eye (how evil can a baby get when NN just giggled at my action?) at NN who stepped forward to help, and moved my left knee up to repeat the same movement. She squealed in delight, and I gave her a deadpan expression.

Nonno walked in at this time, and smiled widely. "My, did I just witness our little Gioia's first step?" I blinked at him, and returned his wide smile with my own. "Nonno!" I greeted, and he chuckled, bringing me up into his arms.

I pouted, and he patted my head. "Fre will be upset if you are not there on time. He wants you to sit beside him." I clapped my hands and cheered, and he laughed and walked out of the room.

_Note to self, brush up on physics._

* * *

I paled as men in black wheeled in a large, long rectangular board. Fre, who is sitting beside me, cheered and clapped. I awkwardly glanced at the board, which is like a scoreboard, with numbers one to hundred, which is at the top of the board.

Fre, from what I see, could barely keep in his seat as he bounced in excitement. The joyous mood broke through, and everyone in the room started chatting around, or just enjoying the small buffet put out on the table.

One of the maids put out a tray of sausages, and my eye twitched when I spotted the delicate arrangement of apples next to it.

How long has it been since I bit into one of those juicy, sweet, peach-coloured flesh and thin rich red skin of those delicious things...

"Here." I looked up and saw Enrico looking down at me, holding a small slice of apple on a toothpick.

I inwardly cheered and praised everything that ever existed for this moment.

_I am here, apple._ My mouth practically watered as he brought it to my mouth.

Chomping a small portion of it off, I greedily chewed it, which elicited a chuckled from Enrico. He gave my head a short rub, lifted me up from my high chair and sat down on a plush chair with me on his lap.

Nonno clapped his hands twice. "Everyone, we shall start the unwrapping of presents." He gave a broad smile to everyone, and polite applause went up as Fre sat on the head of the table, a pointy birthday hat on his head.

Massimo went up, gave Fre a pat on his head and a poorly wrapped package. Enrico snickered, and Mass-guy sent a glare at him. I, in turn, laughed out and giggled (as I had said, acting innocence is an art).

He stuck his tongue out at us as Fre unwrapped his present. "The new Fightome Five game! Thank you, Massimo!" He beamed at Mass-guy, who grinned at him.

Fre turned to the rectangular board behind him and slapped a sticker of Mass-guy's face on the seventy mark.

Just as I remembered. The Vongola-styled birthday party.

One by one, people went up to give Fre his birthday gift (there's only five people here ,counting me, so it's not really a lot).

"I want Gio's birthday present to me!" Fre pouted, and Nonno chuckled.

"Fre, Gio is too young to understand this. She will give you one when she is older." Mass-guy covered up his laughter as a coughing fit at the severely disappointed face of Fre.

I blinked up at Enrico, and he rose his eyebrows at me in a questioning sort of way. Picking me up, he walked over to Fre and held me on eye level with him.

I bit my lip.

_Okay, you've been practicing... Sort of. Just go up and say it._

"F-Fu-reh." I fumbled over the vowels, but his face positively lighted up as he squished me in a hug.

Ouch.

"Papa, Massimo, Enrico! Did you hear that, did you hear that?!" He was literally bouncing in his seat. "Gio called my name!" He beamed at me.

Letting go of me, he turned and stuck a sticker at the hundred-marks point on the board.

"You get full marks, Gio!" He grinned at me.

Enrico whistled and brought me back to his arms, slightly bouncing me. "Good job, kid."

Mass-guy chuckled. "Not bad on your first try, lil' princess." He mock-bowed to me. "I don't mind losing to you then."

Nonno raised his eyebrows in amusement, and stood up. "According to the Vongola-style party rules, the one who gets the highest score will be granted a wish by the Vongola famiglia, as long as it's within their powers." He chuckled. "I don't suppose Gioia can make a wish now?"

I yawned, and Enrico patted my head. "Let her save it then."

Nonno smiled at Enrico and me. "Of course. We'll let her decide it when she is old enough. Now, it is late. Shall we retire to bed?"

Everyone got up to leave.

I rested my head on Enrico's shoulder and hung onto him, half-asleep. My eyes caught the big grandfather clock in the entrance of the dining room as we passed it. Ten o'clock. Hmm.

Fre bid us goodbye down a turn in the hallway, similarly as to Mass-guy. I let myself rest lazily against Enrico as Nonno and he chat about their stuff in rapid Italian. (I am a baby, don't make me translate that chunk when it's bed time.)

A loud bang jerked me awake, and I clenched onto Enrico's shirt tightly. He tightened his arms around me as he continued walking down the hallway, seemingly undeterred.

A dark shadow loomed ahead in front of us, and I blinked.

Nonno nodded at the person, who stopped in front of us.

"Father." Nonno smiled his usual kind smile at him.

"How was the mission?" He asked.

I can sense Enrico's grip on me. His guard is slightly heightened as he sent a smirk at the person.

"Welcome back." The person nodded, and I felt my head getting heavier as sleep induced me.

I can sense his eyes on me. My back tingled, and I resist the urge to squirm. His eyes were fierce. And heavy. I turned around, and a breath got caught in my throat.

_Xanxus._

* * *

**A/N: Hey! Thanks for supporting Change. So, Xanxus finally appears. For a few paragraphs but yeah.**

**Edited/Beta-ed by: Immaangel**

**I dedicate this chapter to her.**

**Reviews are lovely!**


	9. Chapter 7: Process

**A/N: Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer. I don't own the series Katekyo Hitman Reborn, they belong to Amano Akira. **

* * *

I couldn't sleep well that night. I wanted to toss and turn so I could get more comfortable, but the body was limiting me from doing what I wanted to.

_Xanxus. He's here._

_Well, obviously. _But I guessed I was just jittery from meeting one of the 'key people'. He was young. As in, only about a few years older than Fre.

He gave me bad vibes. The angry, narrowed crimson eyes that glared and scrutinised me...

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out everything. But there was nothing to block out except the quiet rush of the air coming from the air-conditioner.

I never saw him in the one year I was here. He must not have come round to the estate, or maybe I just missed him. It felt... weird to see Xanxus. His aura was red and angry, much like...like Professor's. It was so familiar... If it wasn't for Enrico's firm grip on me, I would've actually thought that Professor had really found his way to me.

He was scary. Much, much scarier than what the books described him as. I needed to be careful.

I needed to be careful if I really want to do something here. To fulfil my purpose of life. Right.

_Be careful._

The trepidation and apprehension I hadn't felt since I left the thirtieth century came back.

_He is dangerous._

But behind every person who hurts, they are hurt. I was sure the same logic applied, even when I was in the past. I was such a meddlesome fool. But I needed to do something.

Things changed for me, and now I was going to be the change itself for them. It might very well be my purpose of life here. Well, dream big. So I'll just put it as _One Of My Purposes In Life_.

You can never afford to accomplish too much, after all.

I hope it'll be okay.

* * *

Massimo sighed, and took a sip of his coffee.

"Working hard, bro?" Enrico entered the study with a plate of cookies. Massimo turned and smiled at his older brother. "I couldn't find much. There isn't a single person in history who has had so many flame waves."

Enrico placed the plate of cookies down, and picked one up. "Hmm... There isn't anyone with four flame waves in history?" Massimo shook his head, and went back to stare at the books on his large table.

"Maybe... You are going down the wrong track." Massimo moved his gaze to his brother. "Searching in the big sea won't do anything." Enrico paused, and put the cookie in between his teeth, before moving towards the shelf piled high with books.

His hand roamed over the spines of old record books that were written hundreds of years ago, when computers did not exist.

"If you want to catch a particular fish, you have to know it's origins. Searching everywhere for it isn't going to give you the results that you want." Enrico smirked, pulling out a book and handing it to his brother.

Massimo's eyes widened as he flipped through the pages of the book. "That's... You're a genius, bro."

Enrico's smirk widened as he patted his brother's shoulder. "You're just getting rusty. Spend some time out of the game room and you'll be fine again."

Massimo glared half-heartedly at his brother and continued skimming through the passages of the book.

Enrico sat on the plush chair behind Massimo, nibbling on his cookie absent-mindedly. The cookie crunching and pages flipped were the only sounds in the room. After a good twenty minutes of Massimo absorbed in his work, Enrico spoke.

"Xanxus is back."

Massimo bristled. "Oh yeah?" He flipped through another page and scribbled something down.

Enrico ran a hand through his hair. "He saw Gioia. And he said something really disconcerting." Massimo stopped, and glanced back at Enrico.

Enrico sighed frustratedly, and let his head hit the headrest of the chair. "Dad and I were going back from the dining room."

_Enrico smiled naturally at Xanxus, and tightened his grip on the toddler he had in his arms._

_His angry, dark red eyes roamed over from their father to him. _

_"Father. Enrico." He greeted stonily, and started walking forward._

_"Retiring to your room, son?" Timoteo asked, smiling.__He nodded without a word, and his eyes burned into the back of the toddler's head, who turned around to meet his eyes._

_He smirked, and stopped right beside Enrico._

_"You're getting soft." _

_His dark eyes bore into Enrico's, and the latter glared after a moment._

_"Clean up properly. You stink of blood." Enrico wrinkled his nose, and walked off._

"Woah, woah, you said that?" Massimo asked, interested, as he chomped on a cookie.

Enrico sighed. "What I said doesn't matter. He really _did_ smell of blood, but what I am trying to say here is, he said I was getting soft." Enrico absent-mindedly nibbled his cookie.

"Well, do you think you are soft?"

Enrico leaned back in his chair. "I...don't know." He admitted. "Probably." He corrected hesitantly.

"Well...are you regretting it then?" Massimo questioned softly.

Enrico raised his head in a questioning manner.

"Are you regretting getting close to Fre and Gioia and Pops? Are you regretting it? Are you ready to blame your new found softness on them?" Massimo questioned, leaning back on his chair.

Enrico looked deep in thought.

"But...what have you learned after getting to know them? You now know that Fre loves the colour green and dislikes maths. You know that Gioia doesn't like to see us bicker over dinner time, and loves chicken porridge for dinner. So what? What have you gained?"

A moment of silence passed, before Enrico hesitatingly broke it. "I..."

Massimo looked up to meet Enrico's eyes.

Enrico smiled resignedly. "I gained something to protect." He replied, steeling his resolve.

Massimo grinned, and got up to give Enrico a slap on the shoulder. "Well said and nicely phrased, bro." Enrico returned the gesture with a small grin of his own. "Thanks."

"Well, I won't bother you any more then." Enrico stood up and moved to get to the door, and Massimo returned to his spot behind the table. He paused.

"Thanks...really." Massimo looked back up from his work, and smiled. Enrico exited, and he stretched.

"Now, to trace back the princess' bloodline..." Massimo muttered to himself as he scanned through page after page of the book his older brother picked up for him.

* * *

Federico hummed as he laid out the picture cards in front of his young friend. He beamed when he was done, and sat down cross-legged on the mat in the corner of the nursery.

His young friend, namely Gioia, had been a little down lately. He had noticed that. It had been a few weeks since his birthday party, and she looked like she would jump at every little noise there was.

"Gio!" Her green eyes went from the cards to him, almost asking 'Yes?'

He laughed at the seeming uninterested expression of the eighteen-month-old. She was always a quiet child, and now that she could speak more proficiently, her blunt and short replies really confirmed everyone's thoughts on the young toddler.

"Let's learn about animals today!" He started enthusiastically, and pointed to each picture card, introducing each animal. Gioia only looked partly interested, and only perked up when Federico said they would play a game to test her.

"So, do you want to play the game?" He asked excitedly, and Gioia wondered – not for the first time – how the boy had so much energy. She nodded with a grin._ Games? I'm all up for that!_

"I'll make the sound of an animal, and you'll pronounce the word of the animal I'm copying! I'll keep the cards, okay?" He grinned and kept the cards after a firm nod from the young toddler.

"Roooar!" He held up his hands to imitate paws.

Gioia smiled and pointed at him. "Lion!" Federico grinned and patted her head.

The game went on, before both parties got exhausted and laid on their backs on the mat. Federico then heard a sigh from the toddler beside her.

"What's wrong, Gio?" Federico asked, turning his head slightly to see the black-haired toddler sitting up.

"Take lessons with Fre." She replied simply, and Federico laughed.

"Isn't that what we were doing, Gio?"

The door creaked open, and a tall man walked in. He raised his eyebrows at the pair on the mat. "You know, Fre, she meant that she wanted to take home school with you." Enrico replied Federico's question, and he brightened.

"You want to?!" He sat up and grabbed Gioia's hand excitedly, and the toddler gave him a big smile.

"Can Gioia?" She asked, and Federico blinked, giving it serious thought.

After a moment of tense silence, with no one moving but Enrico closing the door and moving towards them, Federico replied seriously.

"But it is boring..." Enrico laughed out at the disappointed expression of the youngest in the room.

Enrico patted Gioia's head. "You may be smart and understand stuff faster than most other toddlers your age, but it'll take quite a lot of effort to convince Dad." The six-year-old nodded in agreement. "You are barely two years old, Gio! You can join me next time!" Federico smiled sympathetically.

The toddler looked positively disappointed. "I tell Nonno later myself." She replied, looking up stubbornly at the two older males. Enrico raised an amused eyebrow, while Federico blinked at her owlishly.

"But Gio, now you can play everyday! Why would you want to study when you can play now?" Federico lay down on the mat again, and Enrico placed the toddler on his lap before settling in a plush chair at the side of the mat.

"Gio wants study." She grinned at them, and Federico tilted his head. "Fre doesn't get it..." He drawled, and Gioia giggled.

Enrico patted her head. "You are one smart kid." Gioia giggled again. "Smart!" Enrico chuckled at the vocabulary Gioia copied from his sentence, as the quiet girl settled comfortably against his chest.

"Enrico happy... Massimo, Fre..." She mumbled. As he had plenty of experiences of holding and carrying her for the past few months, he had found out that she had a habit of falling asleep when being carried by him. _Maybe it's the harmony property of sky flames, _he mused to himself when he saw that his little sister had dozed off.

"Fre. Tell Massimo to go for lunch. He's in his study. I'll see you at the dining area." He shot a smile to his youngest brother, who shot off the find their second brother.

Getting up slowly, he deposited the toddler in her crib and exited the room after a kiss to her forehead.

_Sleep well, kid._

* * *

"Gioia wants to go to school?" Nonno looked amused. _Very _amused.

I scowled at his chuckle, which elicited full-blown laughter from Mass-guy. My fist connected with the dining table in a soft thump. "Me want school!" I said stubbornly.

"You know, bro, children at her age know at most, ten words. It's funny how 'school' and 'study' are in her first ten words."

I frowned, and stabbed at the peas on my plate. They escaped. The maid by my side paled at my seeming violence.

"Now, now, Gio, that's not how you should treat food." Enrico said with a pat to my head. "Gio wants school." I phrased it as simply as possible. There would be too much hassle if they found out I knew how to speak properly. The past year and a half had done me well in terms of practising Italian. Now I just need to get schooling so that I can quickly complete that hassling part of life...

The maid beside me continued feeding me, and I sulked, while Mass-guy joked about how my face looked like a sour kiwi. (I am _not_ a fruit, particularly a kiwi!)

"I can't let you take the same grade as Fre, but I _can_ put you through early home schooling." Nonno looks apologetic. I blinked. _Home schooling.__..? ...oh. Oh._

I cheered and clapped my hands. Fre looks positively glowing, and pounced on me. "Yay!" He grinned at me.

_Okay, now I got schooling... I just need to advance forward and work hard. And harder. _I grinned at Fre and stuffed a pea into his mouth by a fork. He made a sour expression as he chewed it, and I giggled.

_Well, first, to get rid of peas._

_And, get apples._

* * *

"Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen..." I recited, and the teacher paled. I continued on all the way to thirty-two before he screamed and ran out of the room. I smirked and stared down at the picture book that had numbers one to five.

I needed to speed the process up...

A head poked into the empty room I was in, and I looked up to see Mass-guy walk in, sighing. "That was your third teacher for the week, Gio."

I pouted at him, and pushed away my picture book in disgust. "Enrico said Gio smart." Mass-guy rose his eyebrows. "What ideas has that mastermind been putting into your head?" He flicked my forehead lightly, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

It had been three months since I insisted on home schooling, and Nonno only recently hired the teachers. But apparently, I just kept driving them away. It wasn't intentional (I was lying. A smirking toddler will drive _anyone_ away.).

"Gio advance?" I grinned at him, and he just twitched. "How do you even know that word?"

"Gio doesn't know..." I drawled with a small grin, acting like how Enrico does when he is guilty of something but doesn't want to show it.

Mass-guy ruffled my hair, and I scowled as a few black strands got in my face.

"Gioia?" Nonno walked in, and I jumped up to run to him. I hadn't seen Nonno in a week! I latched onto him, and he chuckled, patting my head. "I heard you drove away your third teacher in the week." He reprimanded, and I pouted.

"Nonno, they idiot! Gio wants science and maths!" He rose an eyebrow. "What has Fre been telling you?" He let out an exasperated sigh, and I shook his hand to get his attention.

"Gio wants smart teachers!" I adamantly said, and Mass-guy crouched down beside me. "Kiddo, your teachers _are_ smart."

"Smarter." I glared at him, and his eye twitched. "Pops! Princess's looking like Enrico more every other day!" He yelled out, horrified. I grinned, satisfied, then pulled at Nonno's sleeve, turning his amused gaze to me.

"Gio wants better lessons." I insisted. His gaze remained on me for a few moments, then he sighed. "I'll see to it." He crouched down to my height, and I wrinkled my nose at our height difference. "Why does Gioia wants lessons?"

"To get smarter." I replied simply. It was the truth. And if he is a Mafia boss, he must have a degree of intuition...

"And why does Gioia wants to get smarter?"

I hesitated, and he eyed my movement. Mass-guy was silent, waiting for my answer. I bit my lower lip, and everything stayed still for a moment.

"Gio... Gio won't be a burden." I said in a rush, then escaped Nonno's loose grip and ran out of the room.

None of them came after me, and I supposed I was on my own for now. I let out a breath inwardly. I really didn't want to lie to the people who I found got close to me after a near two years with them.

I looked out through a nearby window, and saw a stretch of flower beds in neat rows in the yard.

_I really want to go out sometimes..._ I bit my lower lip, then thought better of it.

_I should be brushing up on my knowledge of this time, not lazing around!_ I mentally slapped myself, then headed down the hallway. Another five doors down would be the nursery...

I stopped in front of a large oak door with a plate in front that was engraved with a fish. I blinked, recognising it as Fre's room. Glancing around, I quickly pushed the door open and went inside. I grinned widely when I spotted the rows of books on a large bookshelf at the corner of the room. Fre had brought me here before, but I guess I wasn't paying attention.

Clambering onto a stool beside it (guess he's short too), I reached for a thick book and wobbled slightly as I pulled it out. My eyes widened.

_History_. I grinned maniacally as the familiar rush of adrenaline built up inside me. I always had a thirst for knowledge, and it hurt to not read something good for so long...

Quickly getting down from the stool, I exited the room and ran to the nursery where I could enjoy the book peacefully.

* * *

_This...is strange._ Timoteo can't help but think as he looked through the records.

"Timoteo." His eyes widened, and he looked up slowly to meet the eyes of the owner of the high-pitched voice. His eyes narrowed at the familiarity of the suit and fedora.

"Re...born?"

The infant tipped his fedora in a familiar way.

"Long time no see." The infant spoke again. Then he smirked. "You sound hesitant."

Timoteo furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if it is another of Reborn's cosplay tricks he liked to pull. "Why... Why are you – "

"The Rainbow Curse." The infant replied bitterly as he jumped up on the couch. Realisation dawned on Timoteo, and he frowned deeply. "I see."

Silence fell between them – Timoteo trying to piece everything he had on the newcomer, with Reborn looking around.

"Where have you been these past three years?" Timoteo asked after a short moment of consideration.

The infant sat down, and glanced at Timoteo from the corner of his eyes. _Is that you asking as a friend, or asking as a boss?_

The Mafia Boss seem to understand, and tilted his head slightly. _On a personal basis._ His posture of ease had Reborn relaxing slightly.

"I was looking for Shamal after the Curse. He helped seal a part of my memories about the Curse scene, and I spent the rest of the time getting myself back in line and on track." He replied, seemingly still on edge as he glanced around the office. A cocky smirk made its way onto the infant's face, and a familiar chameleon poked its head around the small fedora which adorned the infant's head.

"Of course, now I am still the best of the best hit-man." Timoteo chuckled. "I don't think I missed that." Timoteo let himself let out a relieved sigh.

"Welcome back, Reborn."

He just had to hide his daughter from him.

* * *

I slipped out of my room, and looked left and right before running to Fre's room.

For the past week, I had been _borrowing_ books from Fre's bookshelf, and well, I didn't think he noticed that I took it with how he went on about how happy he was when his Algebra book disappeared three days ago.

"BOO!" I let out a short shriek, and dropped the thick encyclopedia on the intruder-of-my-thoughts's foot. He let out an "ow!", and I grinned victoriously.

"No sneaking, Massimo!" I berated, and he glared at me. "You were the one sneaking around, princess!"

I blinked innocently at him. "Gio no sneak!" He rolled his eyes and snatched up the book before I could grab it.

"Encyclopedia of Quantum Physics?!" His eye twitched. "Do you even understand it, kiddo?" He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair.

I kept up my innocent act (as I said, innocence is an art), and grinned. "Maaay – be?" I drawled and turned to walk back to my room – or the nursery.

"Oi, oi! Don't leave me with this!" He yelled after me, waving the book in the air. Oh well. I'll just go grab another book from Fre's after he left.

A screech came from my right, and I turned to see an angry blond storming up to Massimo.

"MASSIMO! That's MY book!" Fre screamed at him. "Mr. Antonio yelled at me for losing it! Turns out you took it!" He accused, completely unaware of my amused presence.

"I – I didn't – Gio – " Massimo spluttered, and I suppressed a laugh as Fre screamed more.

"Wait – wait, who yelled at you?" Enrico's deep voice came around another corner. I smelled gunpowder (a smell I got sensitive enough to recognise recently) and sweat on him. He turned around the corner, in a plain white shirt and sweatpants. I grinned at him.

"Hi, Enrico!"

"Yo, princess." He shot me a small grin and crouched down to do our secret handshake.

"Fre got yelled at by a teacher!" I whispered loudly. "Because Massimo took his book!" I beamed up at Enrico, and he patted my head.

"Thank you for telling me, Gio." He aimed a dark look at Massimo, who gulped, and then turned to Fre. "Fre, let's go. We'll go tell your teacher off for yelling at you, okay?" He asked, almost sweetly, and Fre grabbed the book from Massimo before following Enrico.

I suppressed another laugh, and quickly turned to get into my room before Massimo could catch me.

Quickly locking the door and tuning out Massimo's yelling, I plopped down on the soft mat in the middle of my room.

I was really glad and happy I got here. Fre and Enrico never seemed to get along when I was first here...

Now they are just fine.

Please, allow me to be a little more ambitious. I smiled as a list began forming in my mind.

_It's never too late to make a bucket list, it's only too late when you regret, after all._

* * *

**A/N: Was this chapter too dry? I'll be putting more family development and possibly fluff into it ****– ****just as an appetizer. She will grow up soon.****Thank you for supporting Change!**

**Edited/Beta-ed by: Immaangel**

**I dedicate this chapter to her. Thanks!**

**Reviews are lovely!**


	10. Chapter 8: Prodigious

**A/N: Enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the series Katekyo Hitman Reborn, they belong to Amano Akira.**

* * *

I flipped another page, entranced in the book, until a knock descended on my door.

I looked up, and Nonno walked in. I grinned at him.

"Good morning, Nonno!"

He smiled back at me. "Have you had breakfast yet?" I nodded vigorously to his question. Last week, I skipped breakfast to finish reading one of the books I got from Fre's bedroom, and Nonno gave me a good telling-off.

"What are you reading now?" I raised the book to him, and he nodded. Just two weeks ago, Mass-guy had announced that I was smarter than I seemed to be (which earned a death glare from yours truly) during dinner time, and with Enrico and Fre aiding Mass-guy, Nonno finally gave up and pushed me to a more advanced grade.

_Very much advanced._ At least I was with Fre now. That Mr. Antonio person got fired, and replaced by a nice old man. His droning always made me want to sleep, so I usually went off to one corner to read the textbook. He treated it as me being the child that I am supposed to be and left me alone.

So basically, I had the resources I needed to study to remember what I learned in the future. In the thirtieth century, knowledge was more valuable than anything. Knowledge allowed humanity to survive through the centuries. That was why even when we were only in grade school, complicated formulae and facts were drilled into our mind. I was beginning to forget them, but now everything was coming back to me again.

_This is for the best. I need to work harder._

"This is good." Nonno said, nodding his head. I beamed at him, and he smiled. "Do you know what day it is today?"

I blinked. _Is there something special happening today?_

He chuckled. "It's your birthday."

Oh. _Oh. _I turned to look at the calendar on the low cabinet. Today was, er... June...12th?

He lifted me up easily and I let out a small squeal at the sudden movement. He carried me all the way to the dining room, where I heard all my older brothers arguing about something.

Clutching my book, I tilted my head curiously at Nonno, who gestured for me to push open the doors. I hesitantly pushed it open, and the voices stopped immediately, followed by sudden confetti. I squeaked.

"Happy birthday, Gioia!" Fre cheered, and Mass-guy glared at him. "We were supposed to say it together!" Enrico sighed. "Don't start that again."

I blinked at them. I had never had a birthday party before, and this was...sudden.

I felt my eyes water, and I held it in. I am _not_ going to cry when everyone are so happy.

Managing my brightest smile to them, I felt the familiar feeling invade my nose, willing me to give in to crying. I refused to, and only waited until everyone were picking out their food and left me alone for awhile that I sniffed.

Nobody cared that much. Not before. Until now.

I bit my lower lip, and watched as Fre and Mass-guy fought over a piece of nugget, with Enrico trying to play peacemaker and Nonno chuckling. I tried to imprint that scene in my mind so that I would never forget it.

Here, it was much more meaningful.

I had something I was willing to live for, and it wasn't just plain hope.

It's hope...only a higher level of it, added with a spice of family.

* * *

Xanxus stormed down the hallway, annoyed that he had not met any of the immediate famiglia members. He had planned to pass on the mission folder quickly and head back to the Varia Castle to have his nap, but then_ nobody was around in this damn place._

He growled, and walked towards where he could hear some noise. It was a brightly-lit room he recognised as the dining room he used to dine in with the Ninth before he moved out to the Varia Castle.

He roughly pushed the door open, resulting in a loud bang, startling almost everyone in the room except his father. Of course his father. His father was never the one to get shocked. He was the Vongola Ninth boss, after all.

His mouth morphed into a sneer as he saw the banner hung proudly in the back – Happy Birthday Gio. That baby who Enrico was carrying when he last visited. A smirk formed on his lips as he felt an unfamiliar gaze staying on him the whole time. He turned to look at the little girl in blue.

She flinched at his heavy gaze, but somehow managed to hold her head high.

Neither spoke, as Xanxus continued to glare down at her and the girl not willing to let up. Tension sparked and thickened.

Just as Enrico was going to interfere, the little girl spoke.

"Do you have present for me?"

Everything seem to stand still then, as silence took over. But the tension and silence seemed to be ignored by the young toddler as she tilted her head at him curiously.

"Well? Enrico, Massimo, Fre and Nonno gave me presents already."

Silence ensued again, and Xanxus looked on at the little girl with slightly mixed feelings. He wasn't sure how to react, and the girl was either not afraid of him, or pushed that fear away pretty well. _For a two years old, she sure can speak well. _Xanxus absent-mindedly thought, while still holding out his eternal glare.

His father then fake-coughed, catching everyone's attention in the room. "Xanxus, where is your present? Today is Gioia's birthday." Timoteo went along with the little girl (whose name he now knew was Gioia), amusement dancing in his eyes.

_Damn old man, _Xanxus seethed quietly on the inside, then tossed a manila folder at his father. His father caught it with ease, and he turned to walk away.

"Wait! Where's my present?" The stubborn two-year-old climbed out of her seat, and he saw Massimo gape at her from the side of the table.

Xanxus smirked slightly. Anything to get to that annoying person.

He then turned his gaze down to the little girl, who met his eye, and stomped her foot.

"You will get zero marks if you don't give me any! Then you have to abide to any wish I have!" The little girl spoke, surprisingly well, crossing her arms over her chest.

He tsk-ed. Such an annoying girl. He glanced at her again, and noticed the fear hiding behind her misted eyes. He could see that she did not really wanted her present from him, with how her legs were slightly shaking from standing so near him. He then realised that by crossing her arms, the shaking of her hands was hidden.

A full smirk formed on his lips which had her older brothers gulping.

There was not many who could talk to him even when they feared him.

_This brat is going to be Varia quality._

In a swift motion, he took a card out from his inner coat and shot it a little too close with force to the foot of the little girl. Her eyes widened as a sharp thud sounded, and she looked down to see a card embedded in the hard tile.

_At least she didn't scream. _Xanxus turned to walk away.

_"Thank you, Xanxus."_

It was almost whispered, but he could tell that only he heard it, and that he knew the little girl was not thanking him for the present, but thanking him for the chance.

It was very weird. He didn't want change in his life, but the change came in a form of a little girl.

And before he knew it, the meddlesome girl who feared him entered his life, literally, by stepping into the Varia Castle unannounced one day, a card held proudly in her hand as she scanned it on the sensors beside the doors.

He would reject change.

But maybe, just maybe, he craved for a little change. Change from the bloodstained life he got himself into. Maybe he just craved for the warmth his mother once had before she sent him here. Maybe he craved to feel that one last time. Maybe he wanted to feel the security he felt when that woman embraced him.

_That woman._ Maybe it was also because the little girl's glittering green eyes reminded him of _her_. The one who tried to help him and succeeded. The one whose efforts had gone to waste after she herself disappeared.

_And died._

Yes, and died.

Though it doesn't change the fact that _that woman_ was the most infuriating person ever.

But he would reject change this time, because he was not going to let a little girl overrun what traces the late woman left behind. Actually, even _she_ was a contradiction, in his opinion.

_She_ killed his mother after all._ She_ was so dangerous, she had changed him.

If he changed anymore, he was afraid he would lose sight of himself and his priorities.

That was why, no matter how much the girl tried to break down his walls, she would never get inside.

_He would not change._

But then again, the woman's voice rang out in his mind.

_I don't have to break down your walls to get to you, Xanxus. You're someone who wears your heart on your sleeve, only people don't notice it._

He snorted.

Wearing his heart on his sleeve?

He'd be damned if he let that get to him.

He would never let the girl in. No, not anyone. Nobody could ever help him, no matter how much he wanted change.

_"See? I already wormed my way into your heart, idiot! People don't have to get to the center to find your heart..."_

_She tapped his left sleeve._

_"It's right here!" She beamed._

But no. Xanxus would forget all of those. He would.

_That wouldn't suffice. Changing me doesn't mean that I will forgive you..._

_I will never forgive you, Ysabelle del Vongola._

* * *

Timoteo handed the infant a manila folder, and the infant scanned the documents.

"Consider it done, Nono." The hitman spoke in the squeaky voice Timoteo is still trying to get used to.

When the hit-man did not leave, Timoteo looked up from his work questioningly.

The hit-man had his eyes shadowed by his fedora, an action that was very like him.

"May I ask a question, Nono? I think I am a little behind time on some things." Reborn said, and Timoteo caught the tone of the hit-man.

"Yes?" Timoteo put his hands together, and pinned the infant with a grave gaze.

"First...where is Ysabelle?"

Timoteo was not surprised at the question, but did not want to reply that. Since Reborn and Ysabelle had gone on a few missions together in the past, it should be logical for the hit-man to wonder about the partner Timoteo forced on him sometimes.

"She died two years ago." Timoteo replied, letting a hint of grief touch his voice. He could see that the hit-man had twitched slightly, almost unnoticeable. To others, but not to him.

"...I see. Thank you." The hit-man pressed his lips into a line, and Timoteo turned his gaze to a picture hanging on the wall beside him.

"She died for a noble cause in battle." He can see that the infant had clenched his fist tightly in his pocket.

_"Ysabelle, you forgot your pocketknife."_

_"It's okay. I left it there." _

_Timoteo raised an eyebrow._

_His niece smiled. "It's just a mission with Reborn. He is invincible with his gun, so he can protect me. I'll be fine!"_

He should have noticed how his niece talked about Reborn back then, but he probably did not want to go further in his hypothesis without his niece telling him by herself.

Reborn looked up with a small, forced tight smile. "I heard you had a new family member?"

Timoteo smiled naturally. The news had travelled all over Mafia for the past two years since the Dolce feud, but nobody dared to take action to harm the princess yet. She had never stepped out of the estate, and nobody had ever saw her.

"I picked her up from the Dolce feud. Ysabelle was protecting this child – you know how much she loves children – and ultimately died from a gunshot."

The hit-man gritted his teeth at the mention of her again, and lowered his head.

"I am sorry for your loss." He said squarely.

_I am sorry for _your _losses_. Timoteo thought mournfully.

"Why was she protecting the child?"

Straightforward, just like how he was.

Timoteo knew that the suspicion had been formed in Reborn's head, if anything.

He just had to deny and push his way through with all his might to win over the suspicious hit-man.

"The child's mother died in the feud, and Ysabelle picked her up while running from it. We then adopted her after finding her." The Dolce feud was an event which shook the Mafia world, so he was sure the hit-man knew what it was, with the number of casualties.

The explanation was plausible, but he knew the hit-man would do some research on his own and ultimately come to confront him again.

Then he would fight his way through the mist of Reborn's doubts and hypothesis, just to protect his niece's will and pride.

He would even lie, as long as the secret was safe.

* * *

"You. Are. A. Genius." Massimo breathed out, and I grinned.

My birthday party was over two weeks ago, and I was in all-time-high with how I just turned two and could express my thoughts with more advanced Italian without people suspecting.

I just had to become a child genius and well, I had an idea of what I wanted to do but that would have to wait...

"A child prodigy." Enrico's hand came down on my head to pat me, and I smiled at him.

"A child prodigy who breaks the freakin' scale of Vongola's 'child-prodigy-scale'! How'd you do this?!" Massimo yelled.

"I could only do this when I was nine!" He continued, biting his pencil.

Enrico snorted. "He's just jealous of you being smarter than him."

"I am freakin' smarter than you, Massimo!" I cheered, and Enrico proceeded to slap Mass-guy's head for letting me learn that word.

It was only a word, and it wasn't even as bad as 'idiot'.

Okay, maybe it was...

Fre glanced curiously at the piece of paper Mass-guy was holding, and he 'ooooh-ed' in delight when he saw the formulae and scribble of numbers I filled the paper with.

Today was one of the days in which Enrico was relieved of his training, Massimo was willing to get out of his study, and Fre didn't need to go for home school.

Rare days, that is.

I was practising my handwriting (it was so hard to write using this body, and I hadn't touched a pen in too long), and trying to get this body to become ambidextrous when they burst into my room and this happened.

Grabbing another piece of paper, I absent-mindedly scribbled some mathematical formulae on it and worked around it in circles. This was a past time of mine in the thirtieth century, with how there was nothing to do around in the morning except studying and reading.

Now, it had become a great way to occupy your hands while thinking.

I worked and reworked through the formula, and added different components in it and inserting algebra here and there until the paper was filled up again. The background noises of Enrico and Mass-guy's bickering had halted awhile ago, and I stopped writing, peeking up at them.

My left eye twitched when I saw that all three boys were staring at me.

"..._fratellone_?" I tried, and Enrico blinked and walked over.

"Woah... This is exactly like what Massimo does sometimes." I tilted my head, and he grinned at me.

"You little cheeky genius." He gave my hair a tussle, and I giggled.

"Well, it seems we can move her up another grade. Or a few." Enrico said, and Massimo gaped.

"But she already moved four years up! Any more and she'll complete grade school, bro."

"Well, isn't that great?" Enrico just threw his head back and laughed. "Our little genius can get on with life and enjoy picnics and games in the garden with us earlier if she can advance on."

"She's only two?!" Mass-guy muttered unbelievingly.

"Maybe I'm an alien." I said jokingly, and Enrico and I exchanged a look when Massimo shrieked something about 'aliens are real'.

I would just cross my fingers and hope that he didn't meet Gokudera.

"Well, I'll go tell pops about this. You and Fre go ahead and play cards or something, okay?" Enrico shot a glance at Massimo who began muttering to himself about the findings of aliens. "Ignore Massimo. He'll turn back to normal after awhile. I swear, his mind works in such systematic ways he can't accept reality sometimes..." Enrico waved and exited the room.

Fre and I blinked at each other, then grinned simultaneously. I could see a playful glint in his eyes.

"Let's race to my room!"

I nodded enthusiastically as we sped off, leaving Massimo in the nursery.

Or my room, whichever.

* * *

"By Newton's third law, the – !"

"NO! If you work with the general formula derived by Pascal's triangle, you will reach – "

"That's why I said your reasoning is illogical!"

"_Your_ reasoning doesn't make sense, kiddo!"

Moretti glared at his new student, a two-year-old toddler who apparently liked arguing with him about the facts of quantum physics.

The two-years-old glared back.

Moretti swore under his breath. It was true that he hadn't had this much fun debating about scientific and mathematical topics for a long time, but with a_ toddler_ who was infuriating?

He'd take a serving of the mushy-wushy Iemitsu any day.

Okay, maybe not. As a CEDEF member, and the Cloud of Iemitsu's team, he should have known better than to think that.

"Lesson ends here." He gritted his teeth and forced the words out of his mouth. He would have never took this job if the Ninth hadn't talked to him personally.

"It had better." The child prodigy, as everyone had been saying of her, spat out.

He hadn't even bothered to learn her name.

Oh well, he knew the child hadn't bothered to learn his name too.

* * *

"How was today's lesson with my grandniece?"

Moretti shifted.

"It went okay." He replied.

"Is that so now?" The old man rose an amused eyebrow. "I can hear your voices from all the way in here."

Moretti blushed, and averted his gaze. "I apologise."

Timoteo just chuckled. "It's fine. I don't think I've heard Gioia speak this loud before. Thank you for bringing out this side of her."

"I am sure she will get louder as she grows up." Moretti replied, half-hopeful for the Ninth and half-mournful for his ears.

Timoteo just smiled. "Thank you for taking this job on. No one has ever lasted more than a month."

Moretti's mouth twitched. "I think I can see why."

"She has never been this loud in her other classes. All her other teachers were just afraid and scared after seeing her... extensive vocabulary and imagination, topped with the knowledge of many, many other things and subjects."

"I'm not easily scared. Usually, it takes more than a toddler. Like, maybe one serving of Lal Mirch?" Moretti replied dryly, and Nono chuckled.

"Right, her. I was thinking to ask her to take in charge of Gioia's training."

"What?" Moretti blurted out. "She'll break kiddo."

Timoteo laughed slightly. "Gioia is not that weak. She will be fine."

Moretti nodded hesitantly. "If the Ninth says so." No matter how much he disliked the young girl, no one deserved to be put through training by the scariest Spartan teacher on Earth.

"You are dismissed then. I'll see you when you give your next report." Timoteo smiled at him, and Moretti nodded and excused himself.

Timoteo then sighed and looked down at the documents which his right-hand man had brought in before Moretti came.

The enemy had made a move.

* * *

**A/N: Chapter featuring Xanxus and Moretti, the guy who uses Adios (he appeared briefly in the series).**

**Reviews are lovely.**

**Beta-ed/Edited by: Immaangel**

**Thanks!**

**Dedicated to my international friend, who have just finished her exams.**


	11. Chapter 9: Gain

**A/N: Sorry for not updating for a week! Please enjoy. **

**Warning: (Maybe) grammatical errors and some other mistakes, since my editor is busy. Sorry. :(**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn.**

* * *

My hand traced the delicate architecture of the pillars as I walked in, another hand gripping the card Xanxus gave me tightly.

The corridor is dimly lit, and the bottom floor consisted of all the lower-ranked Varia members – cooks, servants, messengers, low-rank assassins.

_Assassins._ That's where I am in. A den of bloodthirsty assassins.

Highly-skilled bloodthirsty assassins.

The lower ranks has been informed that I am coming to visit today, but no timing has been reported to them. I didn't need a servant to follow me around, and this could do me some good. Maybe they had interesting books.

A shadow passed the left corridor, and I resisted the urge to click my tongue in annoyance (or they would hear me). _Where are the stairs?!_

The higher levels will probably be where Xanxus and the other higher-ups of Varia are. And where the books will be. Hopefully.

I had entered the doors of Varia Castle an hour ago, and managed to throw off the servants following me around some twenty-minutes ago when they weren't looking. The stealth technique Fre taught me really worked.

Now, to continue sticking to the walls...

"There she is!"

Crap.

I kicked off into a run after sparing a glance back. The hallway is long, maybe about thirty meters. Judging from their size and the air resistance, along with their estimated speed...

I have at most twenty-five seconds before they catch me.

Diversion. I need a diversion to continue this game of hide-and-go-seek.

A flash of green caught my attention, and I grinned, turning the corner. Perfect. Diversion is here.

I stopped myself before I ran anything over, and a surprised teenager stood in front of me. He wore sunglasses (who wears sunglasses indoors?!) and had colourful hair.

"Oh my! Such a little cutie!" He gushed, and I smiled innocently at him.

Seventeen seconds.

"There are bad people chasing me! I need to get to the library to win! Please help me!" I pleaded with a fake, almost mocking tone, and he swooned.

"Okay, big sister will help you stall them! Go down the hall and climb a story up, there will be a big set of double doors which leads to the library!" He didn't even stop to consider my words properly, but I guess he had enough confidence that not everyone can get into the Varia Castle.

I wrinkled my nose in disgust as the _he_ called himself a _she_, but I saluted him and took off.

Two seconds. One second.

I grinned when I heard the heavy footsteps of the men chasing me halting, and apologising profusely to the teenager about something.

Oh well. This place is really fun!

* * *

"You called for me, Nono?" An outline of an infant can be seen in the dimly lit office, and Timoteo smiled.

"Yes, yes. I have an offer." The infant stepped forward, her red visor glinting when light is reflected off it.

Lal Mirch shrugged. "I am a freelance now. It depends what your offer is for me to accept it."

Timoteo nodded. "I would really much like you to train my grandniece."

The infant met Timoteo's eyes. "The one which the Mafia has been gossiping about for the past two years?" Using 'Mafia' and 'gossiping' in the same sentence was probably not a good idea, but Lal has never been one to mind her manners.

The man chuckled. "Yes, that one. She is currently a little over two years old."

"What will you offer in return? I am not interested in money." Lal settled down on a couch.

The old man raised an amused eyebrow. "I was never going to offer money." He leaned forward slightly.

"How about information?"

The infant's eyes snapped up to meet his.

"I'll consider it."

Lal Mirch was never known to be direct with what she personally wants, and this might be the best Timoteo can get from her. But from what Timoteo had gathered, she was looking for an information supplier.

The old man let out a chuckle when he saw the contemplating look of the infant.

He had won.

"Your new student is in the Varia Castle. I heard she was looking for books. Please bring her back by seven." The infant shot an annoyed glance at him, but did not protest.

"Here. This is something you should know as well." Timoteo pushed a folder to the edge of his table. "But first, I would like a solid contract with you." Without waiting for her reply, he started.

"You may not divulge any personal information of your student to anyone. Second, you must not ask more than you should. Third..."

Lal Mirch had stepped forward and was scanning through the contract.

"It would be nice if you can keep the news of having a new student to yourself."

The infant nodded.

"You can consider it done." Timoteo wondered at the back of his mind, if it was a trend for all strong infants to say that.

The baby signed the contract, and Timoteo smiled, satisfied. He gave her a copy of the contract, and another manilla folder.

"Please burn it after you read it. I would trust you not to let it leak out."

The infant snatched up the two folders with ease.

"Of course."

* * *

I glanced around, eyes wide and marvelling at the bookshelves which are about...a hundred times bigger than me.

I guess my sense of direction was as bad as when I was still Juliette, so I took an unintentional detour before I reached the library.

Of course, with my trusty card, the library doors opened easily.

I picked a book and went to the centre of the library where there is a single table made of oak (this place is huge!) to put it down. I quickly went to grab more (because free-loading books is apparently my speciality now).

Settling down in a chair in the middle of the piles of books I got, I fitted myself snugly in the plush chair with a book.

_If only I can bring all of these back to my room. I won't have to come out for a week!_ I grinned at the thought that formulated in my head, taking in line after line of words.

Of course my peace had to be disturbed at one point or another.

"You. What are you doing here?" I snapped out of my book world, to see a floating infant in front of me. Suppressing a shriek at the proximity of us, the infant floated around me to scrutinize me.

I managed a smile. "Hello?"

The infant is...floating? _Floating?_

The infant sniffed disdainfully. (The hood makes it's gender really indistinguishable... Wait, hood and infant...? There was someone in the series...)

"Gioia del Vongola. Two years old, a child prodigy. Specialises in quantum physics and algebra. The grandniece of Vongola Ninth."

I blinked, and my mouth fell open slightly.

After a moment of silence, I grinned. "That was so cool! So, so cool! How did you do it?! Sprouting information about someone!"

I can sense the slight surprise coming off from the infant, and I jumped up in my seat. "Can you teach me?" I asked determinedly.

The infant blinked, and silence ensued.

"...It would cost you."

_Why does that sound so familiar?_

I bit my lower lip. "But I don't want to burden Nonno..." I racked my brains for an alternative. If I remembered correctly, this infant is the money-grubbing Arcobaleno, from the books... The Books, yeah.

"I'll work for you forever if you teach me." I replied seriously.

The infant glanced at me for a moment, then at the pile of books surrounding me. "Do you understand them?"

I blinked, puzzled at the change of subject, then realised he was talking about the books. "They are just revision materials. Why?" I replied, still slightly confused.

A smirk came on the infant's face, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "How about you accumulate personal debt to me, and pay them after you start working."

My eyes widened in delight, and I grinned widely.

"Okay!"

"My prices are not cheap." The infant warned. I smiled, steeling my resolve. "It'll be okay! Just don't ask anything from Nonno!" The infant gave her a satisfactory nod.

"I'll contact you again, disciple." I waved as the infant flew around the corner.

"Bye bye, master!"

I plopped down on the chair again, and grabbed another book. I am not really sure what just happened, but all I know is that I succeeded in speeding things up.

_It'll be fine. I'll make it okay._

I sighed and settled myself on the chair comfortably again, grabbing another book from one of the stacks of books surrounding me, when the book was suddenly hit out of my hand. My eyes widened as I heard a bullet shell fall to the ground, and I turned around quickly.

An outline of an infant can be seen in a dimly lit aisle of bookshelves.

_Why do I keep meeting infants today?_ I dead-panned, but decided not to let it bother me. I travelled through time to stumble upon the Mafia who has secret super flame powers after all.

The outline moved towards me, and I see a blue-haired infant dressed in military clothes with a machine gun (for some reason I really hope it is a toy, but then somewhere in the back of my mind I know that it is not possible) hung threateningly on her back.

"Er...hi?" I managed, peeking over the plush chair, because I am too short to look fully over.

She smirked. (What is with infants _smirking_?!) "At least you know how to listen to bullet shell sounds. Brat, I am the teacher in charge of your training, Lal Mirch, called in by the Ninth. Now," she got her machine gun in her hands in a swift movement and clicked it, "listen, or die." After the fabulous self-introduction of my new instructor, I ducked behind the plush chair as she opened fire.

_Nonno, why are all my instructors crazy?!_

I willed my heartbeat to slow down, and prayed that the chair will hold out. My eye then caught the book that she shot out of my hand a moment ago.

The bullet came in contact with the book. The book wasn't damaged. So that will mean that at least the cover is bulletproof...

I grinned. If books are bulletproof, everything else should be (what can I expect from the Varia...?). The chair is holding out well too. I patted the chair sympathetically.

The gun stopped shooting.

_Chance._

I jumped out, grabbing a book on my way to cover up my head as I run.

Legs will be hard to aim at, and from what I heard, she needs to reload after every twenty five rounds. So she values power over speed. I managed to duck behind a bookshelf as bullets embedded the spot I was in a second ago.

Looking at the smoking holes on the carpeted floor, I can't help but start running again.

_She was serious about dying?! _My mind screamed.

"Your back is totally open!" She hollered, seemingly nearer to me, and I stumbled and turned a corner as a bullet embedded itself in the wall at the height of my head.

_She's freaking serious!_ I screamed in my mind and carried on running. The muffled sounds of (intentional) dropping of bullet shells kept me away from where she really was, but really, I was just running around the library in circles.

I heard an annoyed sigh after a few minutes of running. She jumped down in front me, an irritated glare pinning me down. I laughed uneasily.

For the first two minutes, I could still analyse her placing and where she might shoot, but after that two minutes, my mind was too deprived of oxygen to calculate, think or analyse anything further than my own statistics.

"Sorry." I apologised, and she shook her head.

"So that's the best you can do... Toughen up, kid. You'll have to do much more than that to survive my training." She scolded, and I lowered my head in shame. Nonno called her in, so it must be important. How could I have wasted his efforts?

"But your analytical skills are working fine. Improve them and your physical stats, and one day you might be able to join COMSUBIN." She nodded to me, and I managed a tired smile.

_Why would I want to join a combat force... _Not for the first time today, I mentally cried.

She glanced at the clock hung on the wall. Six-thirty.

"I am returning you for today. I'll see you tomorrow. Better rest up well, or you won't be able to survive tomorrow." My mouth twitched at her threat, and she walked away.

I heard the double doors click close, and I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I dropped the book I was holding on the floor (good job for not getting my head ridden with bullets) and headed to the centre again, clicking my tongue in annoyance when the doors banged open /again/.

"Princess!" A subordinate of Vongola, who I recognised as Hilbert, came running at me, followed by five others.

Crap.

"We were worried! You suddenly disappeared and the records shows that you haven't left the Varia Castle..." He frowned at me. "It's time to go back now." He said in a reprimanding tone, and I grinned.

"Sorry! Well, since all of you are here..." I beamed at them.

"Mind helping me carry some books?"

They always said to make the best out of the situation.

* * *

"Nonno!" I rushed up to hug him, snuggling in his warmth. The aroma of today's dinner wafted over, and I felt my stomach growl.

"Nonno!" I whined and clung to him. "I met two scary babies today!"

He settled me down on a plush chair, and I started digging in, seeing as the older ones had already started dinner without me.

"So, how was your field trip?" Massimo asked, amused, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

"You said two, Gioia. I only sent one. Who was the other?" Nonno questioned, and I suddenly realised I didn't have Master's name. (And I couldn't possibly say the infant is Mammon, since technically Master didn't give me any names...)

"Master." I replied, and he rose an amused brow while Mass-guy choked on his food.

Enrico chuckled. "I am sure she didn't mean it, whatever way you thought of."

"Master was floating! Then Master suddenly said out my name, and stuff about me! Master knows my favourite subjects, Nonno! So I asked Master to teach me how to say out so many things about other people, and Master agreed only if I pay Master back when I start earning." I eagerly explained, and Nonno nodded with a thoughtful look.

"That should be Mammon then. Your Master is Xanxus's Mist guardian." Enrico supplied, and I 'oooh-ed'. _Just as I guessed, then._

"Master said Master will train me in that area! Then suddenly another scary baby shot bullets at me, and I had to run around the library. But I brought back lots of books!" I grinned at everyone, who seems to catch on to my enthusiasm. Fre started chatting with me about the books I got, and in the corner of my eye, I see Nonno exchange a serious look with Enrico.

_Did I say something wrong?_

* * *

"That baby has information." Enrico pinched the bridge of his nose.

"The Arcobaleno just resurfaced. Mammon sure gets back on track fast." Massimo said.

"It _is _the best information gatherer after all. I can't believe Gioia struck a deal with that baby." Enrico said.

"I heard he likes money, so maybe that was the whole point. He saw the talent in our lil' princess and thought he may be killing two birds with one stone." Massimo replied.

"No matter. He is still an Arcobaleno, and it might be dangerous for Gioia."

"For all we know, he has information on her flame-waves and parentage. We can't let any more people know that she is Auntie Ysabelle's child."

"We can bribe the infant. Tell him not to leak out anything about Gioia. Vongola can afford it." Enrico supplied.

"It's a her, actually." Timoteo interjected.

"Well, is that okay then, pops? We'll bribe him – her." He corrected.

Timoteo nodded. "That's fine. Next time she contacts Gioia, can someone accompany her? The price is negligible, tell her that. But do not let Gioia find out about the bribing issue."

Enrico and Massimo nodded in agreement.

"That'd be the best we can do now."

* * *

"You have to wake up at seven every morning, have your breakfast and wash up by seven-thirty, run one round around the estate as warm-up, and then report to the training room straight away. I expect to see your timing improve."

Today, I have been woken up by gun shots. My trainer, as I called her 'Lal' (but got slapped on the head because it was disrespectful, she said), had stormed into my room to tell me my wonderful schedule.

"Lunch will be at twelve. Training will end at seven and you are free to have your dinner that time." She ended, and I saluted where I am in the bed.

"Yes ma'am." She nodded, and walked out of the room. I glanced at my digital clock. Seven-oh-two. Time to get ready then. I sighed, then slapped my cheeks two times together.

"Get hyped up, Gio! Do your best!" _At least for Nonno..._ I huffed, and got up from my comfortable bed.

"You have twenty-seven minutes left, kid!" I squeaked at the sound which came from the infant outside my door, and quickly washed up, trying not to think how creepy it was to have your instructor standing guard outside your bedroom door.

"Hold it with both hands!" I squeaked at the fierce tone, and quickly did what she said with the pistol I had in hand.

_Why am I learning how to shoot?_ I mentally cried, as I aimed at the target.

Taking into account the velocity and air resistance of the bullet, my posture, and the recoil...

There. I held the gun tightly and firmed up my posture. I squeezed the trigger at the board, and flew back from the recoil. Looking up, I grinned at the bullet embedded in the third smallest circle.

Close enough for my first try. Right, I forgot to count in my size... I sighed.

"Hmm, the recoil proved too much for your body."

_If you knew, why did you still let me do it?!_

I looked back to my instructor, and she nodded. "Your use of analytical skills are a bit too slow. If it was a real target, it could have ran away already."

I tried to think that I would never shoot a real target, but her next words snapped me back to attention.

"Improve on the speed of calculating those damn numbers, or just get more practice with the gun and you'll get better. Continue."

She jumped off the place where she had been occupying, and went out of the door.

I blinked at her retreating form before the door shut entirely.

_Okay..._

* * *

Lal Mirch didn't want to think how similar the brat was to her mother. In the file the Ninth has given her, she had learned that her late friend had a child.

They had grown up in COMSUBIN together. Then she received the news that she was dead. And now she sees a carbon copy – except for the hair – of Ysabelle walking in the hallways of the Vongola Estate. She almost had not want to believe it.

The way they can analyse anything in seconds, the way their eyes have a cheerful and mischievous glint to them, the way they are both daredevils who are attracted to the worst, most dangerous kind of people...

Or maybe they just attracted the worst, dangerous kind of people. With how she found the brat in the library of the Varia Castle, she almost winced at the wave of deja-vu.

_I hate how she thinks that I don't need to worry about her. I hate how she doesn't tell me things for me to worry about. I hate that she thinks by shouldering all the burden, her friends will be better-off. I hate that she is my friend._

Lal Mirch refused to admit that when she first saw the folder with the brat's picture and parentage (the father's column was left blank for some reason, but she wasn't about to pry), she had tears held back in her eyes.

_I hate that I still think about a dead person._

People in the Mafia should remember the past, beware the future, focus on the present. She is not doing that now.

_Focus, focus on training the brat.__Train her well so that she can protect herself better than her mother did. So that she wouldn't die too._

She admit that she has been shocked when she saw the number of types of flames she possessed. She had then vowed to train her well.

_She would definitely not die at her own hands. I would not let her. If anything, she would die for a noble cause in battle._

Lal Mirch smirked.

She would make this child into something more than a soldier. Something better.

And her expectations are high.

* * *

_The present changes the past. Looking back, you do not find what you left behind._

* * *

**A/N: Hi! New chapter!**

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	12. Extra II: Juliette

**A/N: An extra to mark the entry of Chapter 10! :) Thank you all for supporting ****– ****we have reached more than 70 followers! Let's aim for a 100, hmm?****Thank you all for your support!**

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**Warning: Edited by me but not my editor, so there might be a few mistakes here and there.**

* * *

She whimpered, trying to hold in her tears.

_"Why...? Help me, Delta... I don't want to forget..."_

* * *

A nine years old Julius walked along the dirty, cracked pavement. He was at The Slums, also known as the outskirts of his city. Everyone called it 'The Slums' because no one bothered to name it, as the adults had told him.

He hummed, finding his new adventure fun. _I would be able to tell Mari all about my new adventure_, he thought excitedly, his mind drifting to his maid for a moment.

He peered around curiously, noting that some inhabitants of The Slums were looking at him in a strange way. He was well-dressed and had his hair combed neatly, it was no wonder that the dirty homeless people were staring at him. An urban who came to the outskirts was unusual, after all.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps to the right of him. Turning, he glanced up at a man who was in rags. He had a strange, almost maniacal look in his eyes.

Julius stiffened when he felt the atmosphere thickened, all sense of joy and happiness gone, replaced by fear. He gulped when the glint of an axe. Backing away slightly, he swallowed.

_Help..._

"C-Can I help you...?" He tried, as politely as possible, trying to ignore how the man grinned at him and raised his axe.

Julius screamed, squeezing his eyes shut when the axe came down at him without hesitation.

A clang was heard, and Julius squeaked.

The blond boy opened his eyes cautiously, which widened when he eyed the small form standing in front of him.

"Get away from him, Dill. You know better." The high-pitched, but quiet and almost-deadly voice floated over to his ears, and he could not help but wonder who the child is.

The axe lay abandoned on the ground, and a butcher knife was held in the girl's left hand.

The child could not have been more than his age, with her small form and high voice, but the maniac all but bowed and high-tailed out of the situation with The Abandoned Axe.

He was told in stories and by adults that The Slums were a dangerous place where weapons are normal, and people were dangerous and bloodthirsty. He had not believed it, having grown up with well-mannered children at his age, but now, he had no qualms of whether it was true or not.

It was true, definitely, with the near-death experience he just had.

"It's about to rain. Come with me." Startled, he snapped his head up to the girl, who was now facing him. He blinked in surprise, taking in the small girl, who seem deadly with with a butcher knife held casually in her hand.

"Are you coming, or not?" The small blond girl asked, a little annoyed.

Glancing up, he realised that it was indeed about to rain, with how the sky is dark even though it is afternoon.

"S – Sure." The girl gave a quiet scoff, and beckoned for Julius to follow.

On the way, Julius tried to make small talks, in which all attempts were rejected or directed away from by the hazel-eyed girl. Her hair seems to glow almost white, with only a faint shade of blond under the sun, which slowly went into hiding behind the dark clouds.

Reaching a small shed, he blinked at the shaggy looking roof which looks like it has not been repaired in years.

"Erm..."

The girl walked into the big shed, and placed the butcher knife on a table, turning her intense hazel eyes to the Julius.

He gulped. Following her inside, the door shut with a foreboding click.

"My name is Juliette Hayes." The girl started, finally deciding to be talkative after the whole trip back.

Julius, finally getting to familiar ground of greet-and-meet, smiled slightly.

"I am Julius. Julius Williams."

The girl raised her eyebrows at how the boy sounded slightly confident than before.

"You should run, Williams. Even I can't keep Dill away for long."

Julius blinked in confusion at how the conversation turned.

"I..."

"You are from the city, right? Don't be an idiot. It's dangerous here, and someone as young as you should certainly not be here." She spoke intelligently, almost talking down to the older boy as she settled down on a makeshift bed.

Before Julius could retort to the girl about how _she_ should not be wielding _a butcher knife casually,_ a knock on the door caught their attention.

Juliette glanced at it, while Julius silently debated whether he should start running, with how he can hear light pitter-patter of the rain outside.

_Mari will be mad at me if I let my clothes get wet..._ He thought sourly.

"State your name and purpose." The girl suddenly said – her tone professional and cold, instilling a speck of fear in Julius's heart. Julius turned his head to the girl, surprised at the deadly tone which replied her.

"Delta. Someone entered The Slums again." A voice replied from the other side of the door, and Juliette 'tch-ed'.

"Troublesome urban people. Who exactly?"

"They said he was wearing a white coat..."

Julius brightened up. His father was a scientist, and usually wore a white coat. All the other white-coat friends of his father whom he met were nice and friendly to him too.

Before he could open his mouth to tell the girl of this, the girl stood up stoically.

Puzzled, Julius took a few steps back and the girl took a few steps to him.

Her glare at him was menacing.

"You _bastard_..." Her hazel eyes which seemed warm and misted just now, turned dark.

"Why did you bring in the white coats?!" She cursed under her breath, and Julius, being too shaken by the sudden rise of volume, failed to realise that those were words that children should not utter.

"Miss... Miss! Are you okay in there?!" The voice outside turned frantic, as Juliette nibbled on her lower lip with a harsh glare shot at Julius every few seconds.

"Yes...I am fine, Del. They must have followed the boy who came in before them. This place isn't just available to everyone out there. Not everybody can find it."

"I see. I presume the boy is inside with you, Miss?"

Juliette shot a glare at the petrified boy. "He is."

"Holding him hostage should be the best plan here." The deep voice outside replied, and Julius felt a shudder.

_Him...as in me?!_

"No. That is our last resort. Del, come in and watch him. Make sure he doesn't get away. I'll go to see what those white coats want." Juliette's tone had authority and finality, which probably shut the man-outside-the-door's protests up.

"...Please have a safe trip, Miss." The voice outside stonily replied.

_Just what is going on...?!_

* * *

Juliette Hayes was not always a morbid girl who talks like she was an adult.

She had parents, and friends. But they slowly left her, in one way or another.

Some of her friends were brought out of The Slums by their parents, who believed they had a chance of survival in the urban city. She never saw or heard of them again.

Maybe they got a better life in the city, and forgot all about the people who were with them through thick and thin in The Slums. Or maybe they couldn't find their way back, considering how it was hard to even catch a glimpse of The Slums in the maze of the outskirts of the city.

Or maybe they died.

Juliette doesn't know. She doesn't want to know. Either way, they are all bad.

Some of her friends died from the plague which spread years ago. The plague had also wiped out a good portion of The Slums, until a cure was found by countless nights of hard work by the adults, and many, many lives lost.

Almost a thousand people lost their lives from the disease. The Slums became much quieter then, with only around a thousand people left.

She didn't mind the quiet at the time.

Some of her friends tried for a chance in the city, some of her friends died from the plague, and some of her friends were taken away.

Taken away by the people who wore white coats.

Everyone in The Slums knew about the white coats. They walked into the place as if they owned them, they took away whoever they wanted, and _the people taken were never returned._

Well, for some special cases, like her mother, will manage to find their way back into The Slums.

Her mother told everyone the true stories of those who got taken away. They were experimented on and thrown away like rag dolls once they are deemed that they were getting too old and dangerous to keep.

Juliette absolutely hated people who wore white coats.

They took away her friends. Her friends never returned like her mother.

They had experimented on her mother, until her mother escaped. She had gotten married in The Slums, and had Juliette.

They had a happy time together. But joyful moments never last.

Her parents were brave. They fought the plague with everything they had, and even helped in the research for the cure. But they had succumbed to the plague, just before the cure was finalised and distributed to the people.

She was left alone at the age of two, with nothing but fleeting moments of joy and hope she can remember from her short years with her parents.

The people of The Slums helped her whenever they could. Everyone knew of her parents' deeds, and that they had died valiantly in the fight against the plague.

She felt sick to her stomach, when she learned that she suddenly became the leader of the entire slum.

Her parents were the ones who led and organised The Slums, making it more liveable and enjoyable. They were the ones whom everyone listened to.

Now that they passed on, she had unknowingly inherited the whole of The Slums.

Educated and taught by her parents' most trusted friend, Delta, she started work at the age of five.

She could never make The Slums enjoyable like how her parents did. Not as much, anyway.

But she will keep trying, and keep working. Hard, hard, and harder, because she believes that one day, those who abandoned The Slums will come back.

Her friends will come back, like her mother did.

Her parents had always told her to hope.

She will continue hoping. She will continue to hope that her friends will come back, the people of The Slums will be happy, no one will disrupt the peace of The Slums, no plague will ever come again, no one will be sad because they have everyone with them...

She will make sure that The Slums will be okay.

Everything will be okay.

* * *

Her world crashed down with one Julius Williams.

The Slums was doing well, after three years of her reign ever since she was five, with the help of Delta. Everyone liked her, and she liked everyone. She had even established her own spy system, to be able to quickly receive news of whoever enters The Slums.

Then, suddenly, an urban walked into The Slums. A child, whose eyes were full of curiosity. It had immediately crossed her minds if it was one of the white coats' tactic to invading their territory, especially with how the white coats have been driven away two year ago by the dangerous weapons each inhabitant of The Slums held. They had quickly moved place after that, and finally managed to settle down after two month of shuffling and shifting.

Now, after a year of peace and quiet, the urban found their way to them.

"Dill, rest it." Juliette commanded hardly, her own hand twitching towards the knife she strapped to her back.

Her eyes burned at the sight of five white coats. At least they were playing it smart by not bringing anyone else.

Her lips twisted into a sneer.

"Get out of our territory, white coats. You are not wanted here." She shot at the five adults, consisting of three males and two females.

The white coat in the lead tipped his glasses slightly.

"I said I wanted to see the leader, not some brat who can't even match half my height, brute man." He said in a light, mocking tone, as if chastising Dill.

Dill swung his axe down, the white coat quickly retracting his feet to see that the tip of his leather shoes have been cleanly cut off, exposing his toes.

A hint of fear entered the man's eyes.

"I want to see the leader." He ordered, slightly shaky, trying to keep his eyes off the glinting axe and owner.

"And what gives you the right to demand that, bastards?" A woman standing beside Dill retorted. Juliette vaguely recognised her as one of the 'outward guards' she set in her spy system, also a good friend of her late mother, Violet.

Juliette inwardly let out a breath, and surveyed her surroundings. Inhabitants of The Slums had came out of their hiding place one by one, each wielding a weapon, determined to protect their leader and place.

_Seriously, who taught them to be this violent? Riiiight, Violet. _She thought dryly as said woman began threatening the white coats with sharp knives held and spun carelessly in her hands.

"Stop, Dill, Violet." Juliette commanded, and they begrudgingly lay down their weapons.

_If they came again, that means they have something up their sleeves. They were caught off guard last time, that's why they retreated without bringing anyone back to their hellhole. When we moved, they needed time to look for us, but considering how advanced their technology are, it wouldn't take more than a few months. Then the rest of the time...they must have something up. We are treading dangerous waters.__  
_  
The white coats peered curiously at the little girl who stopped the two violent adults with a sentence, and she could almost swear that a wild, maniacal calculating look entered one of the scientists' eyes.

She coughed, and the two adults stepped back slightly for her to walk forward.

"I am the leader of The Slums. What you want is certainly none of our business, and I am sure that your presence here is not needed, or wanted. I ask for you to leave immediately." Juliette spoke, and the scientists raised their eyebrows at the young child, before the scientist in the lead laughed boisterously.

"Can you believe it, Evmas?! She said she was the_ leader_!" Another round of laughter, followed by the giggling of the two female scientists set Juliette on edge. The axe came down again, and Juliette squeezed her eyes shut as blood went splashing all over the dirt and the scientist's coat.

_Poor fool._ She thought with a slight sigh.

A howl of pain and shrieks from the females in the bunch caught her attention, and she opened her eyes calmly.

"Please refrain from any unnecessary comments, or it won't be just three toes you are losing." Juliette calmly stated, while the female scientists stared on, stricken with horror, as the other two males stared blankly at her and Dill with widened eyes.

Juliette smiled and bowed mockingly, ignoring the scientist who passed out from the pain, and the blossoming of red staining the ground.

"It was nice meeting you."

After a moment of stunned silence, one of them spoke.

"Nice meeting you, too." A male scientist stepped out from the bunch. "I would like to have a word with you, leader of The Slums."

Juliette raised her eyebrows slightly at the man, while Dill got ready for another attack with his bloodstained axe.

"Stop, Dill. I'll just listen to what he has." Her hand gripped the butcher knife strapped to her back, making sure the scientists got her meaning.

Juliette waved a hand and disappeared into a small hut just beside Violet, and the scientist who spoke up entered it too.

"What is your intention?" Juliette questioned unhesitatingly.

"I have come to fetch my son, Julius." The scientist replied lightly. Juliette narrowed her eyes at the light tone.

_No, you're not. It is simply an excuse._

"Is that so? I haven't come across someone like that." Juliette replied lightly.

"Then I'll just have to take one of you."

She snapped her head to his. "No can do. You are not taking anyone from here, selfish bastard. This talk ends here. Get out of my territory."

"Touche." The scientist replied, and walked closer to the girl. Their eyes met with a glare, and the scientist smirked.

"My name is Professor Williams."

Juliette raised her eyebrows. "Williams is your name?"

"Yes. Evmas Williams." The scientist smirked at her, which quickly got wiped off as soon as_ she_ smirked.

"So you are Julius Williams' father? No wonder he seem so weak and mild." She replied.

Evmas narrowed his eyes. "What a disdainful girl."

"Do you think I would not know the story of experiments? Everyone here knows."

"But not everyone responds. Especially little girls like you..." He extended a hand to her face, and she slapped it away harshly.

"I demand you and Julius." He said smugly, as if he won the verbal battle.

Juliette narrowed her eyes in disgust.

"Why should I, idiot?" She retorted, and the scientist let out a boisterous laugh, one that she hates so much.

"Because, my dear..." His voice turned sinister and cold. Juliette felt a shiver run down her spine. "I can press a button and the whole of The Slums will go boom."

Juliette's heart almost stopped then.

"I will have you, and Julius back." He smirked.

"Julius is still in The Slums." _You can't blow your own son up._

"So are the inhabitants of The Slums." The scientist replied, bored.

_He had won the game from the first move onward._

* * *

"You can't go!" Violet exploded.

"Listen to Delta when I am gone, Violet. Dill, don't get too violent, and remember to clean and polish your axe. It won't be nice if it stains." Juliette said, her hands busy with handling some herbs.

"Grind this and apply it to your wound if it is serious. This is for losing blood, this is backup for the disease." Juliette pointed out.

"_Listen to me, Juliette Hayes!_" Violet screamed, and the young girl's hands stopped.

"It's over, Violet. I lost the battle. Live well."

Delta, who has been quiet since the beginning, spoke. "Stop it, Violet." The fierce woman turned angry eyes to the man.

"_What?_" she hissed.

"I said stop it." Before Violet can pounce on the man, Delta started again.

"Or do you not believe that Jules won't come back?" Violet paused, eyes wide.

Dill turned his attention to Delta.

"Her mother came back alive. She will too. This is just temporary." Delta clenched his shaking hands into fists.

"Do you think that Juliette is weak? The Hayes are strong. Jules will definitely come back." Delta said, gritting his teeth.

"_She will._"

Juliette's eyes widened at the trust and faith in the tone of Delta, and her eyes welled up.

"Thank you._ I will. _I will come back to all of you. One day." She promised with a small smile, and Violet went to her for a hug, wailing about how she didn't want to lose her friend's daughter.

_All will be well, all will be well._

As usual, she had hoped for a better everything.

* * *

A man shrouded in shadows. A glint of a needle in the hand he held up.

The needle puncturing her skin.

She gritted her teeth, thrashing against the binds that held her to the chair.

"I won't lose to you, Evmas Williams. Not now, not _here_!"

The man smirked, watching with satisfaction as the liquid in the syringe emptied itself into the girl's blood flow. He grabbed her by the hair and roughly pulled her up to meet his eyes. A small scream escaped her as her limbs were tugged harshly by the binds. The man sneered.

"Not when you don't remember anything, my sweet little Juliette." He threw her back on the chair, the loosened binds unnoticed by the girl who turned pale. The man exited the dark room, leaving the dishevelled girl.

Tears sprung to her eyes as she thought of all the people back in her old home.

"No... _No_."

She held back a whimper.

* * *

Seven years later, a boy ran along the path of dirt and bits of concrete.

A wave of deja-vu overcame him for a moment as an axe stopped his path.

"What are you doing here? Haven't you done enough to us?!" He snarled, waving the axe dangerously in the air.

The blond boy panted, eyes wide and red-rimmed. He coughed dryly.

"Juliette..." The burly man paused at the name, and his eyes widened at the news that came with it.

_"Juliette fell into a coma. She might never wake up again."_

* * *

**A/N: How was this? And yes, I didn't write this extra for nothing, it is going to be one of the arcs I put in myself. Just an introduction.****  
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	13. Chapter 10: Pain

**A/N: Yay! Milestone time! Chapter 10! :) thank you all for supporting Change, and I hope for more people to read this story!**

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* * *

"The fruit stall's owner contracted a terminal disease, and I heard his son refuses to take over the stall..."

I sighed, and tuned out the rest of the gossip the women in front of me are doing. It has been two months since I got permission to go to the Varia Castle on a regular basis so that I can learn from Master, and as of now, I still have not figured out the gender of Master, so... Master is Master.

Each time I went to Master for lessons, Master would send me out on errands in which I normally weren't allowed to do. Things like buying fruits, food, sauce (with _my_ own money, though it technically is a loan from Hilbert), recording down _all _kinds of brands of a certain thing, hand-picking potatoes in a nearby town...

I swear Arcobalenos are crazy in one way or another. Just look at both of my instructors.

At least I figured out that Master is Mammon. From The Books (The Books sound better than 'manga'. Manga sounds unrealistic, but they all look so real here, and considering they _ar__e _real History...from ten centuries back...), Mammon is a money-grubber, who charges money for any and everything, be it services, items, requests or information.

I am learning from the best of_ The _Bests, so I had better do it with everything I've got.

But, buying five and a half tomatoes is...really unprofessional. I mean, Master said Master will teach me how to sprout information like a cool dude, so I don't get how buying tomatoes will help in that.

"I heard the fabric store owner's daughter eloped with her cousin! That is so shameful!"

I sighed, still waiting for the gossiping lady to notice me. I know I am short, but I am still two...and a half. I think. Around there.

"Oh! Young lady, you needed something?" Her personality took a one-hundred-eighty degree turn the moment she noticed me. Wow. She took five minutes and twenty-three seconds to notice me.

"Five and a half tomatoes, madam." I replied politely, as she rose an eyebrow.

"And a half...?"

"Yeap." I replied without hesitation. The previous errand Master had me run was to go get five meters, twenty six point three-five-one-seven-nine-nine-two centimetres long fabric, so I guess this is better than that.

"Did you hear it wrongly from your parents? We don't sell half a tomato." She replied, and I wrinkled my nose.

"I am pretty certain I did not have the wrong information, ma'am. It is as simple as selling me six tomatoes, and you get to keep half a tomato and the money for six tomatoes by providing me the service of cutting one of the tomatoes into half. It is a win-win situation, as I get the tomatoes, and you get more money." I reasoned, biting my lower lip.  
_  
__Why can't they hurry up?! Nonno doesn't know I have been running these errands for two months. I can't risk him knowing, or there'll be a bodyguard following me around..._

She stared at me, dumbfounded. I know I am speaking a bit too well for my age, but just _give me the freaking tomatoes_ and I'll be gone. What part of that does she not understand?

"O – Okay." She replied, a little shaken. I tapped my feet, glancing around the street I am on. It is a nearby town from the Varia Castle, situated somewhere around Sicily. The street is filled with chatters, and I have came here so many times, the gossip has become old.

I need to ask Master when my real lessons start...

"Here, young lady." I slipped a few bills on the counter, tiptoeing, then quickly turned to walk away.

"Y – Your change, child!" I waved her off. "Keep it please!" Shooting a bright smile at her, I eyed the packet of five and a half tomatoes and half-jogged back.

With two months passing, my training instructor, the most Spartan teacher ever, Lal Mirch has helped me improve three things: my speed, stamina, and shooting.

I still don't get why I must learn how to shoot, but...well, better safe than sorry, as what Mass-guy told me before. My speed and stamina only increased by a little bit, and I can run continuously for five minutes, or alternatively, sprint for three minutes. Speed is hard to say, since Lal likes to train me at the Vongola's private beach (rich people...), where sand hinders my movement. A lot.

Well, I can't say these two months account for nothing. The books I got from the Varia Castle are real treasures. In another few more weeks, I can probably finish the entire library off.

I need to gather more information if I am going to stay here. And I can never be too safe...from my own time.

_I am so selfish..._

Maybe if I dig deeper, I can find out something about the time I came from. Maybe...the Williams will never find me, if I alter the future a little.

Though I am not sure how I can manage to ever alter the future ten centuries down.

"Welcome back, princess!" I shot a smile at Hilbert, who stood guard at the entrance of the dense forest.

"We can go back to the Castle now." I grinned at him as we entered the car, and drove off through the forest. The Varia Castle is surrounded by this forest, and it has been said that high level traps have been set in it to keep away trespassers and civilians (I don't get why they need to hurt a civilian, but I guess civilians don't venture into the forest, from what gossip I heard in the past two months...).

After a while, I started to get sick of the moss green around me, and laid down on the passenger's seat. "Hil, what's my schedule?"

He glanced at me from the driver's seat. "Head back to the Vongola HQ by five-thirty, training with Miss Lal Mirch until nine, bed time at nine-thirty."

"Eh? No dinner?" I rolled over to face him. _There's apples tonight!_

"Miss Lal Mirch said that, since you want to incorporate Illusionist Mammon's training in your schedule, you have to double your training regime, and solve your own problems – missing dinner included."

I blanched. "That's torturous!"

Hilbert shrugged. "We were given orders."

I sulked. _Maybe there are apples in the Varia Castle..._

"It will be fine, Young Miss." I glanced up at him. "Not everyone can survive Miss Lal Mirch's training, but Miss is one of a kind."

"That doesn't make me feel any better!"

* * *

"Master, I brought back five and a half tomatoes." Dropping the bag of tomatoes on the table, I collapsed on the chair beside it.

"Throw it away." Master wrinkled Master's nose, scooting away from the bag of squished tomatoes.

"Master, that is a request which requires a service. I will charge you for that." I stuck out my tongue playfully at the baby, who didn't turn away from the screen of the computer.

I see a smirk.

"You've learned well from me."

"Actually, you didn't teach anything in the past two months." I pointed out, and the chair Master is sitting on swivelled around.

Master sniffed. "I guess I can start the real thing." _Isn't that two months late...?_

I blinked at Master.

"Recall what you heard in the market."

_What... I heard?_ I scrunched up my nose in confusion. They were all pointless gossips. What is worthy of remembering?

"Why was the fruit stall not open?" The sudden question came, and I furrowed my eyebrow.

"Are you being serious, Master?"

"I am always serious. Do not ask pointless questions, I am charging you for that one." I wrinkled my nose at that, and Master gestured impatiently for me to answer.

"Er..." I racked my brains, and my eyes widened as I connected the dots. Master had sent me out on time consuming errands. The market has gossip flying around everywhere. Gossip may be rumours most of the time, but they are information too. Master wants me to collect information by listening to what people are saying around me.

So that means, Master is training me to gather information in the simplest way.

I laughed. How could I have not known, really. I must have hit my head a little too hard during Lal's training.

"He contracted a terminal disease."

Master smirked, a smirk which says 'I-see-you-finally-caught-on'. "The fabric store owner's daughter?"

"Eloped with her cousin." _Which is simply atrocious! _I added in a high-pitched voice in my mind. Holding back a snigger, I looked up to see Master's reaction. Master looks smug.

"Do you know why I did this exercise?"

"Gathering information in the simplest way." I replied, smiling.

Master hummed. "Muu. You pass the basics. I'll start the next module in the next lesson. This current module will be completed with a lesson that you must remember all your life."

I leaned in closer, intrigued by what Master is going to say.

"Information is always up for grabs. Do not let down your guard, no matter what." I blinked, trying to absorb it in my long-term memory. This will be of use. Definitely.

"Thank you, Master!" I grinned and saluted Master, then glanced at the clock. It's five.

I sighed. Time to go back then.

Master sniffed his usual royal-I-am-too-good-for-anything-and-anyone sniff. "Goodbye then."

"Master, I want to charge you for the service of throwing away the tomatoes I painstakingly bought." I pressed on.

Master scrunched up Master's nose. "I shall consider it. Form of payment?"

I thought about it for a moment, then replied confidently. "A question."

Master glanced back at me, probably deeming me as a harmless kid who won't ask anything too serious (innocence is an art!). Letting out a sigh, Master waved a hand dismissively.

"Go ahead."

"What is your gender?" I asked immediately, and Master shot me an annoyed glare. Classified information, maybe? Or maybe I just struck a nerve.

But Master can't back out now, unless Master allows the bag of five and a half tomatoes to stay in the study.

I shrugged, and turned to leave the study without the bag of tomatoes, when Master sighed.

"Female. Now get _out _with the tomatoes, kid." I grinned at her (finally!) answer, and trot back to get the bag of tomatoes (in which the half of tomato is oozing out juices, making the whole thing look disgusting).

"It was nice doing business with you, Master." I giggled, which then turned into full-blown laughter when she shot me an annoyed glare.

Walking out of the door, I paled when I remembered that I won't have apples tonight.

* * *

"Forty high kicks!"

"What?!" I scowled. "It was twenty yesterday!"

"I said I would double your training regime." Lal replied simply. I crossed my arms. "You said that the day before yesterday, and it became twenty."

"And now I am doubling that twenty. Start, now!" She barked out, and I winced at the volume, quickly starting on the high kicks.

Raise, kick out, retract, down. Raise, kick out, retract, down...

I sighed inwardly, already feeling the muscle strain in my thighs from having to balance and kick out.

"Kick higher!" Lal practically screamed, and I quickly followed her command, in fear of any possible 'doubles' (it might just be triples next time, but that thought is too scary to comprehend) she might dish out.

The rest of the warm-up (as she said, but I will never believe that forty high kicks are counted as warm ups) went relatively...well, if the screaming and scolding by Lal is any indication. My legs felt like jell-o after the entire exercise.

It then came down to Lal teaching me a round-up high kick to the side.

My muscles are dying...

"You are light, so make use of that!" She holler, and I nodded. No matter how tough this is, I have to think about Nonno...

My stomach growled slightly. Right. I didn't have any food from last night's dinner onwards, and I missed today's breakfast because I slept in. So, now I am very hungry. And tired.

But of course my Spartan instructor will never let me hear the end of it if I ever decide to utter a word about 'tired'...

I sighed.

"_Kick higher!_"

"Y-Yes ma'am!"

Suddenly, all strength seeped out from my legs at a particularly hard kick (it was only my tenth one...) and I fell with an undignified yelp. Maybe it was because of my lack of focus and loss of centre of gravity...

"Hmm..." I looked up to see the thoughtful look on my instructor's face. "So you can only take ten round-up high kicks."

My eye twitched. Right. A toddler who is supposedly halfway through mastering the art of walking and running can't possibly do fifty round-up kicks _after_ forty high kicks. _So basically...she knew and she still told me to do it!_ I screamed in my mind while maintaining a passive face on the outside.

"Okay. Today's training is over."

I blinked in surprise. Lal rarely (read: never) releases me early.

"Why the sudden release?"

She shot me a glare, and I cringed.

"Your Grandpa told me to." She grumbled, then shuffled out of the room. "Get some rest, or tomorrow would be even much more of a hell on your muscles!"

My mouth twitched. "Sure..." She exited the room.

Silence fell upon the large rectangular training room, and the only sound that could be heard is my breathing. I sighed, lying down on my back, looking up at the ceiling.

I need to work harder...and harder. Master said she is going to be teaching me the 'real thing' soon...supposedly, how to gather reliable information more efficiently and quickly than listening to gossips in the market. Probably something with technical skills and machines... Computers? This is the twentieth century, if I am right... The technology shouldn't be that advanced yet, compared to the future. It will be simpler for me then... I hope.

"Yo, princess."

I glanced up from my position, and turned my head away in a seemingly rude gesture after I spotted the person by the door.

"Hi, Evan."

I can practically sense his eye twitch in annoyance.

"I would much prefer for you to use 'Dr. Evan', princess." He entered the room, and I turned away from the general sound of his footsteps.

"Go away, I am tired... No energy left to prank you..." I smirked when he let out a frustrated sigh.

I still remember when he implied I was stupid, okay.

"Come on. It's time for your check-up." I let out a dramatic sigh, and pulled myself up. The monthly check-ups are courtesies of Nonno, so I can't really reject them outright...

"Will you finally diagnose something wrong with me?" I joked, and wobbly stood up with the help of the doctor.

He heaved me up, carrying me, and I squeaked indignantly. "Nope. Just the usual gist, you get it." His grip on me tightened, and I gave up on trying to wriggle out of his arms.

"Can I take a look at my own medical profile?" I drawled with a bored sigh, tapping rhythmically to the muffled thump of Dr. Evan's footsteps on the carpet.

He rose an eyebrow at me. "Why would you want to?"

I smiled dryly at him. "...I kind of finished half of the Varia library. I would much rather read something that is beneficial to myself than books repeating about how great the previous Vongola generations were."

"They _were_ great."

"You are trying to change the subject." I pointed out.

He sighed. "Look, kid, I can't just let you read it."

"Why?" I grumbled.

"You are not allowed to." He replied, thinning his lips. I stiffened at the slight aura he gave out.

_Stop asking._

I glanced at his suddenly-serious eyes, and quickly averted my gaze.

"Then ask Nonno to give me permission." I muttered.

He kept quiet, and I felt as though I was poking on a really thin thread, like I am pushing my luck. I better...stop now.

But again...why not? Could it be something sensitive?

Nah. Nonno won't hide anything from me.

But then again, he's a Mafia lord...

* * *

"Are you sure you don't want me to check over your legs?"

"It's fine. Don't touch me." She stuck her tongue out at the doctor who gave out an exasperated sigh.

"Fine. Don't blame me if you feel it next morning. Here's some ointment, and cream. Will do some good in soothing the pain."

"I don't need them." She insisted.

"Look, kid, if you have any problems, I am the one at fault, so - "

"So just blame it on me. I am fine, my legs are okay. Lal's training makes it like that almost everyday and I have survived all of that." The two-and-a-half years old replied simply, shooting down the idea.

"I can't believe I am arguing with a two-years-old kid..." The doctor muttered, and she stomped on his feet, ignoring his pained yelp.

"I am two-and-a-half, old geezer."

"What a rude and ungrateful kid..." He grumbled. "You are so much like someone I knew it isn't even funny any more."

She blinked. "Who?"

He froze for a millisecond, and went on as if nothing happened.

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"No." He replied instantaneously.

"Please?"

"I said no." He rejected again, and pushed two bottles of syrup into the girl's hands.

"Take them every morning. It helps to build up your immune system. Those should last you for a month if you take five millimetres everyday. That's all."

"Hmph..." The girl childishly stomped her way out, and he let out a relieved breath once he doesn't feel her faint aura any more.

_Ysabelle... your kid is as troublesome as you._

* * *

_"Your parents are dead."_

_She blinked, then looked up at the man peering down at her._

_"Dead...?"_

_"Dead." He confirmed, and she felt her eyes burn from unshed tears._

_"Why...?"__After a moment of silence, he replied._

_"The plague. They saved everyone here. Everyone is grateful to them." He squatted down to her height, and smiled tiredly. "But it will be okay, yeah?"_

_Her eyes widened slightly. "It will...be okay?"_

_He stopped himself from breaking down into tears at the hopeful look the innocent girl gave him._

_"Yeah – Yeah. I – It will be fine." He wiped at a few stubborn tears which escaped his eyes, and brought the girl into his embrace._

_"My name is Delta. I will be your family from now on."_

* * *

I blinked groggily, a blurry image of a man hugging me fading away from my thoughts.

Who... A dream...?

Dragging myself into a sitting position, I winced, realising that my leg muscles are sore and screaming in pain. I bit my lower lip.

_I can do this._

Throwing my legs over the side of my four-poster bed, I tried to stand but fell instantly to the floor with a loud thump. I winced as searing white hot pain pierced through my legs, and I curled myself into a ball, hugging my legs to myself in a poor attempt to alleviate the pain.

I gritted my teeth and tried to calm my frantic heartbeat, forcing tears into my eyes.

"Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong-ding!" My alarm clock chimed, and I felt cold beads of sweat roll down my forehead.

This was _not _a good day.

"Gio, are you awake yet?"

I paled, hearing Massimo's voice coming from the other side of the door, almost forgetting about the pain.

Key word, _almost._ One can never forget pain; it is one hell of an attention seeker.

_This. Hurts. Like. Hell._

"Yes, Massimo?" I forced out of my mouth, biting back my tongue to keep in a scream from the pain. Tears escaped, and I squeezed my eyes shut, choosing to ignore them.

"Are...you okay? You sound more constipated than usual." I opened my eyes to glare at the door where he is supposedly standing on the other side.

"Are you saying that I usually sound _constipated?"_ I clutched my calves and buried my head in between my knees and chest.

_Shit you, Mass-guy. Hope you pull down the whole freakin' space with your volume and mass._

_Wow, pain sure makes me have a loose...mind. (Not mouth, never mouth.)_

"A – Ah, no. No." His tone became sheepish, hearing the dangerous edge in my voice which promised something worst than my usual pranks on him with Fre.

"Er...come out for breakfast soon. Lal says you don't have training today, since she has an impromptu meeting up."

"Oh." I replied simply, which got muffled by my head's position.

"Are you really okay...?" He asked, hesitation seeping into his voice. I bit my lower lip to physically resist the urge to yell at him to get lost _quick_.

"Tip-top." I lied, squeezing my eyes shut, allowing the new wave of tears to escape.

_Just. Go. Because. It. Hurts. Too. MUCH._

He probably sensed the insistence and determination from my tone, and finally decided to leave me alone with a "See you in the dining room then".

I let a silent scream escape, before biting down hard on my lower lip to keep any sound from coming out. The effort forced tears to roll down from my eyes.

_It hurts...__It really, really hurts...__  
_  
A sob escaped, and I panted, trying to hold my breath. From_ experienc__e__,_ holding my breath usually does the trick. Your brain will be temporarily deprived of oxygen, and lacks the required 'material' to respond to the pain, which makes it easier to bear with...for a few seconds. Then the rush of oxygen enters your brain and a new wave of headache comes around because of the sudden intrusion.

Not a foolproof idea, but, I'll try anything to lessen the pain now. _Anything_.

(When someone is an experiment, you don't ask for the relieve of pain, because it doesn't exist. The most someone can hope for is the lessening and numbing of pain...which is a lot already, actually.)

_Shit, haha. This sucks. Man, is it possible to die of leg pain? It's kind of uncool though, and I dream of dying because of a play date gone wrong with Fre, not some stupid reason like this._

_Evan might kill me, if I am not already dead by then._

I tried to regulate my breathing again, but it got more haggard, and black spots dotted my vision. I have no idea how long I lay there, on the carpet, beside my bed, curled in a ball. The pain blinded everything, and I vaguely recognise the taste of blood which entered my mouth. A bitter, metal taste. I spat it out in disgust, only to realise that my lower lip itched, and blood surfaced from a small cut on it.

Great. _Great. This is freakin' great, Gio. _

Tears invaded my vision again, and I tried to focus on it than the pain in my legs.

"Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong-ding-ding!"

I gritted my teeth to keep myself from lashing out at an inanimate object. Right, if there is no response to the previous alarm at seven, it will start ringing continuously from seven-fifteen onwards until someone presses the stop button.

I pursed my lips, ignoring the blood in my mouth. _Why did I even put this kind of wacky alarm system in?! __Right, because Lal will kill me before the alarm clock annoys me to death._

The alarm clock went on, and I felt my patience thinning. My whole body feels exhausted and used, and the pain in my legs no longer feels searing hot – wait, I don't feel my legs any more. I exhaled, and a pounding headache came upon me. Right, for some reason, since last night, I have had this headache that wouldn't go away.

And when I thought it is finally gone this morning, _this _had to happen. I winced when I feel a cramp building up in my legs as I tried to flex them.

_Shit shit shit this is bad my blood circulation – I can't think clearly and it's hazy and hazy and cloudy and I am repeating myself shit shit shit._

The alarm clock was _still_ ringing.

_Annoying shit._

But I am so tired...and light-headed. Everything feels like it is floating. The world is a mixture of colour, the only taste known to me is metallic and bitter.

I feel so pathetic and small.

Maybe I am. Maybe I always was, no matter where my soul was. Through time and space.

The ringing in the background caught my attention again, and I clicked my tongue weakly in annoyance. The ringing is bringing my headache to greater heights.

"Shut up..." I commanded the object, my voice coming out weakly.

_I. AM SCREAMING. SHUT UP. IN. MY. MIND. How pathetic I've become. Shit. Stupid shit._

The ringing continued, and my head felt like someone is pounding on it with a chair with studded nails in intervals.

What was I thinking, talking to an object? I think my mind is going haywire...

I think I am already bordering insanity sometimes.

My eyelids felt heavy and my lip feels itchy with stabs of pain.

The ringing continued.

I growled, and raised a hand to try to reach the alarm clock. _If I am going to faint here, I will make sure that stupid __shitty __alarm would never bother me. __Again. Never. _

The ringing continued.

Irritation suddenly burst in my heart, and I ticked.

"Shut...up!" The words spilled from my mouth, and a sudden burst of a translucent, wispy indigo-coluored flame burst from my outstretched hand.

The last sounds I heard was the satisfying thump of the clock hitting the carpet, and the click of the stop button, followed closed by the silence which engulfed the room almost immediately.

A tired smile crossed my face before everything turned black.

_Imagine smiling after a slap in the face. Then think of doing it twenty-four hours a day._

* * *

**A/N: New chapter! What happened to Gioia, and what was the thing that came out of her hand?_ insert semi-curious and horrified look here_**

**_(And and and. If any of you spot an error or grammatical mistake or just anything that seem wrong - do inform me!)_**

**And most of you might have noticed, well, Gioia sure curses a lot when she's in pain/trouble. ****Thank you for your support, please continue to support Change!**

**Reviews are super fanta-bulous! :****)))**


	14. Chapter 11: Bridging

**A/N: Hi! Hope the last chapter was okay. Now, time to see what happens to Gioia! :)**

**Enjoy!**

**Warning: Edited by me, not my editor. Expect to see a few errors here and there... (maybe, most probably). Please do tell me if you spot any mistakes, I'll get to it as soon as possible. :)**

* * *

Federico was, short to say...livid.

After receiving the news that his favourite little sister (he only had one, but that's just a detail) has been let off from her practice today, he had joyfully skipped to the dining room.

After all, they hadn't played together for some time. Federico doesn't know if he has been failing his position as a knight of Gioia.

On the way, he had met up with Enrico, who was sweaty after his morning training. They had fun chatting about everything – ranging from how their father's hair is turning white like snow to how Massimo is becoming more and more like an old man.

It was fun while it lasted. Then they reached the dining room. Breakfast time was about the only time the whole of immediate family could get together, and his father has make sure that he made it a rule for everyone to be present at breakfast, every single morning unless there was valid reason.

Then the duo realised that their little bundle of joy was not present in the dining room – where Massimo was already pigging out, and their father was exchanging greetings with his guardians.

They sent Massimo out (though it was more of kicking him out of his chair and stealing the doughnut he was reaching for) to get Gioia for breakfast – who was probably sleeping in what with the 'intensive' (it was hardly intensive to the boys, but they know it will be a blow to the girl's pride if they say it out) training she went through for the past few days.

It wasn't until Massimo came back alone that they got worried. The gamer had vaguely described how the toddler sounded more constipated than usual – which Fre knew wasn't true, because his best friend could never sound constipated with her high-pitched yet calm voice.

Like a xylophone. Much like a xylophone. Or bells.

But back to the point, Federico had all but dashed off his seat with a half-eaten bagel forgotten on his plate.

Enrico had followed in a much calmer pace, leaving Massimo in the dining room, poking around what seems to be a gaming console.

Maybe it was the consistent ringing of an alarm clock. Or maybe it was the adrenaline rush which surfaced within him, or even the weird creeping sensation which gushed out like a dam broke, or that part of his brain screaming that something was wrong. _Very. Wrong._

Or maybe (again) it was how the ringing of the alarm clock suddenly stopped, and a dreadful, foreboding feeling filled his being.

Nevertheless, Federico didn't expect Enrico to be as jittery as him – or maybe more, shown by how he had kicked the door off its hinges the moment they reached it (without knocking, mind you).

Still, even with all the warning bells ringing in his head, he didn't expect (he didn't expect so many things; Papa and Enrico would be disappointed in him) to see an unconscious, worst-for-wear, curled-up, barely breathing, feveri- and _was that blood_?!

Enrico's reaction didn't differ much from his. (So maybe he wouldn't get scolded for the girlish scream let accidentally made...)

Federico didn't want to think about anything else, but it seems that Gioia won't be able to make it to Enrico's birthday party.

Federico was really angry.

After he had a huge bawling session in Massimo's lap, of course.

* * *

Xanxus slapped a folder down on Timoteo's desk, and the man smiled at him. "How was school, Xanxus?"

He didn't want to talk, but he had to. "Fine." He grumbled, and turned to walk away.

"Xanxus."

The teenager stopped, and turned back slightly to glance at his father. "May you call for your Mist guardian? I am in need of specific assistance that only a skilled professional can provide."

Xanxus stared at his father, a silent inquiry of what he needed help with.

_But then again, it never really concerned him._

And that thought shot down all other curiosity or interest he had of what his father had asked of him.

He grunted an approval, and turned to walk out of his father's office.

"You might want to visit Gioia." He heard his father's fleeting voice, which made him stop for a split second.

He wouldn't. He would not associate himself with a girl such as her. A girl who could not take care of herself, a girl who could not even take training properly so much so that she hurt herself and has been lying in the hospital bed for a month, a girl – a girl who looked too much like _her_.

The person he had come to hate. Dislike. Loath.

The person who thought she could see through him (maybe she could, but that was not the point), the person who thought she could help him (he didn't need help in all honesty, but again, honesty was not a trait of the Mafia), the person who thought she had solved the mystery that was him, the person who thought he had no idea of what had happened. The person he unintentionally allowed to change him. Even if a little.

The person who killed his birth mother.

* * *

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the sudden light that burst forth.

A breeze blew gently, and it was oddly...comforting.

I blinked.

I blinked again.

...breeze?

Looking up, my mouth fell open when a sea of endless blue met me, dotted by white tufts.

The sky. The clouds. How long has it been since I truly took a look at it? But then again...why was I here? The last thing I could remember was...pain.

I quickly looked down at my legs, and blinked in surprise when I didn't feel any pain. No pain, no numbness...

Where was this?

"So you are finally awake."

I jerked, eyes wide as I turned to the source of voice quickly. As quickly as my eyes had widened, my eyebrows furrowed as I eyed the man before me suspiciously.

"You may be wondering who I am."

My lips twitched. "My, how bright of you to realise that." I retorted sarcastically.

The man – with a weird tall hat and a checkered mask -my breath hitched.

Checkered...mask?

Tall...iron hat?

I promptly choked on air. _Checkerface? As in... Kawahira? Why is he here – no wait where am I?!_

"Do you know me?" The man – no, Kawahira asked.

_Shit._

My eye twitched as I closed my mouth and turned away. "That's a weird question to ask, considering _you_ seem to be the one who is familiar with my identity." I replied.

I saw him nod from the corner of my eye. "I suppose you will want answers?"

I turned my gaze back to him.

"Do you have them?" I asked warily, eyeing his big, thick coat and the gloves he had on.

"I would prefer to think I can answer your questions. Do voice your concerns." He replied smoothly, walking closer to me.

I tried not to flinch as he pinned me down with his heavy gaze.

"Where am I?" I forced out, as he sat down beside me, a safe distance between both of us. I tried not to inch away.

He released a deep chuckle. "I would think you would know that you are in your own mind, child."

I blinked, all apprehensiveness at Kawahira's appearance flying out of the window as I absorbed the news.

"Oh..." I let out. Should I be surprised...? This _is_ the past after all, where I seemingly stole a poor soul's identity and ventured into the Mafia suddenly, in which the Mafia has super secret flame powers and entities such as Kawahira still existed.

This is the past, the past which I had once read about in boring long vague passages of text, and vivid images drawn and depicted in books.

The past which I supposedly know of, studied of, and lived in now.

Didn't someone called...Mukuro do something like that? Enter his mind's realm.

I took a good look at my surroundings.

We were sitting on a pavement, and no wait – a bridge?

Everywhere I turned was just an endless vast of blue sky and clouds. The sun peeked out behind some clouds. Even when I looked down from the edge of the bridge, fog and mist covered what might be below.

I turned to face the left of the huge metal bridge (what can only be depicted as a wide, big, metal bridge with tall and high beams and pillars and strong metal wires to hold and support it) and scrunched up my nose at what seems to be an endless narrow path. It seems... dim, almost dark, like a place the sunlight couldn't reach, and some parts of the bridge there had charred parts and broken pieces lying around. A good part of the bridge still looks shiny and lustrous though, which looks weird when put together with the charred and damaged areas.

Kawahira was still studying me silently, and I quickly turned away from him to look at my right, where another endless path went down the bridge.

But... Compared to the left side of the bridge, it was bright, almost too bright to look at. The metal railings of the bridge looks too polished, the beams that supported the bridge looks strong, thick and tall – and the bridge looks wider. As in, it looks like it increased in berth and width as it goes on.

It was undeniably bright, and I couldn't help but feel my heart lift up slightly.

Looking up and around again, I quickly noticed that Kawahira and I seem to be in the centre of the bridge, if the wide beams and wires are any indication that it was the part of the bridge that needed more support than any other part.

At least...this part of the bridge is not overly dim or bright. Just...normal.

"Done?" An amused voice asked, and I carefully met his eyes.

I furrowed my eyebrows. If this was indeed inside my mind, then (I shall not question why my mind is a friggin' bridge, since there are more pressing matters now) why was he here?

"Is this really my mind?" I asked hesitantly.

He chuckled again. "It is, child."

He speaks as if he's really old.

"Ah..." I let out, and looked down at my outstretched legs. A breeze blew past again, and I relaxed my shoulders, not realising in the first place that I have stiffened.

"Why are you here then?" I asked, after a moment of silence.

He was still staring at me.

He hummed. "That topic is debatable, and the exact reason is negligible. But I can say, child, you are special."

I dead-panned. "You came here just to tell me that?"

"Not really." He admitted. Momentary silence washed over us again, and I let out a sigh of relief.

I haven't felt this relaxed in awhile.

Mustering all the courage a mentally eighteen years old girl can have, I spoke.

"Don't you feel warm? You can take off your disguise, Checkerface." I tried to smile at him, and he jerked slightly. (Maybe it was my face, cause I've been told I look weird with a try-to-smile face. By Massimo. Actually, I think he has something against the word 'constipated' since he keeps using it on me... Massimo, favourite word, constipated. Ha.)

Before he could say a thing, I spoke. "You said I was special. Maybe you could explain and elaborate that a little once I can see your face."

His posture still slightly cautious, he took off his hat and mask, and a wary smile broke through my face when white hair can be seen.

_This person – no, entity, could destroy my mind and life with a single breath of flames. Don't raise his alarm bells any more than this. Danger danger danger._

He looks like the way he was depicted in The Books – scrawny (now that he took off his coat), white hair, round glasses, a plain green kimono.

He looked at me with guarded eyes.

It's just a _name_. No, not even close. It's just an _alias._ Really, Mafia people and their trust issues.

I sighed. "I would really want to get some answers first though, before you ask me anything." _Get yourself together, Gioia. You are facing one of the two surviving supposed aliens of the Earth._

_Nothing will go wrong. _I hoped. I...really hoped.

"An exchange of information then." He nodded slowly. "What more of your concerns, little Miss?"

_He doesn't know my name. Chances that he just chanced upon me is sixty-eight percent._ "Why are you here? How did you get into my mind?"

A grim smile made it upon his face. "I sensed a burst of Mist flames. Wild, untamed, oozing with potential." I furrowed my eyebrows. _Mist flames? The...the burst of flames from my hand? The one that shot down my alarm clock? Oh..._

_Wait, great, so in the end, the alarm still brought me trouble in the form of Kawahira. I swear I'm burning that shit when I get back. But wait, it's made of plastic, so it would emit dioxin... Argh forget it stupid shit stupid stupid stupid._

"So I got curious, and tried to break into your mind since a few weeks ago. You might have felt a bit of a headache. I broke through when you fainted."

I grimaced._ Weeks ago? My headache only started last night... How long has it been since then?_

"How...how long has it been?"

He rose an eyebrow. "Since you fainted? Nearly a month.."

"Oh." I sighed. I should have expected this...

"Any other questions?"

"Er... What about my body?"

"What about your body?" I scowled at him for repeating my question, and he just shrugged.

"Fainted, lying on a bed? I assume that will be what happens to people like you."

I rose an eyebrow. "People like me?"

"Who has a talent for Mist flames, and their body is not ready to take them in, resulting in the psyche of the body to reside with the active conscious until the body accepts you fully again."

I blinked, and nodded slowly. "So basically, I am on lock-down from my own body?"

He nodded. "You can say that." My lips twitched, and I let out a resigned sigh. "Ah..."

"Is 'oh' and 'ah' the only thing you know how to say now?"

"It isn't your turn to ask questions yet." I stuck my tongue out at him, and he bristled.

"Children nowadays." I bit back the retort that I wasn't really a child of this time. He will just get more suspicious.

"So... What do you want from me?" I asked cautiously. A small smirk formed on his passive face, like I am finally getting to business. "Answers."

"We won't get anywhere if you keep giving me vague replies, old man." I replied rudely, and he shot me a glare.

"It seems you know something peculiar."

_Shit...?_

I struggled to keep on a passive face. "Is that so now? I don't really understand what you are saying."

He sighed. "Is it my turn to ask questions yet?" I shot a small cheeky smile at him. "Are you dying for those 'answers'?" He looked at me pointedly, and I sighed, waving a hand for him to start. He twitched.

"First, how do you know my alias?"

I blinked lazily up at the sky. "I am known as a prodigy." I said, trying not to reveal anything while being more aware of my body language than usual.

_This sucks_. I mentally cried. _Why do I have to be wary in my own mind?_

Then again...

He must not know. No one should.

He eyed me suspiciously, and frowned. A frown that seems to say 'I-will-let-you-off-for-now-and-I-emphasise-on-the-for-_now_'.

"My name is Kawahira, and as you _know_," he accentuated, "my alias is Checkerface, or Iron Hat."

I pursed my lips to stop myself from laughing at the cliché titles. Hearing it from him itself is priceless.

"Gioia." I replied simply.

He raised an eyebrow at my short introduction.

"I suppose you would already know about me, Kawahira." I replied easily. It is clear as day; he researched about me, but of course he couldn't get my name. He couldn't, because the Vongola works that way. And I would assume he is in another country, most likely Japan, rather than Italy, so he wouldn't be able to come over and infiltrate to find something on me.

He tipped his glasses. "You are sharp."

"You don't venture into an enemy's territory without knowing anything." I replied softly, and pulled my knees to my chest.

He hummed. "That's true. I shall add on to my statement then. You are smart for someone of your age."

I stayed silent, but eyed him from the corner of my eye.

_Be on guard on guard on guard. __Stay on guard on guard on guard._

"Maybe I am not just a nineteen months old toddler." I hinted, and his glasses glinted in the sunlight.

"Oh? I am interested, little Miss." I shrugged.

"I am not obligated to satisfy your interest." _I don't want to, I can't, I won't tell you anything._

He leaned back slightly. "...I see. Do you know anything about me then?" I drew a pattern on the sun-warmed concrete I am sitting on.

"Maybe."

Undeterred by my vague response, he continued.

"Then you do you know I am not human?"

"...Maybe."

He nodded at my answer. "Why are you not surprised?" I turned to him. "I practically admitted I know your secret."

"I _am _surprised." He confessed. "But not that much. I said you were special and you had answers, so to an extent, you had to know these things."

"Why did you think... I have answers?" I pressed my lips into a thin line. He shrugged. "My species _are_ a little god-like, but we are not omnipotent. But _you_..." I blinked, then swallowed. Right, in a way, I _was_ omnipotent...

"You want to know about the future?" I blurted out, biting my lower lip after that.

_Now he will know that I definitely know something. I should cut down on the hints..._

_But then again, he_ is_ someone formidable. I can't hope to lie through everything... Shit, this is hard._ I sighed.

He looks borderline amused.

"To put it strictly, yes. But I am not interested in the future. I would much like to learn about why and how you are here." I stiffened, and I felt his gaze fall on me heavily. I swallowed.

"That is not of importance to you, I believe." I replied harshly, looking over to glare at him. He is strong. He does not need to know the future to prepare for it.

He is strong enough to counter anything that comes his way.

That's what he meant.

A lazy smirk made it's way to his lips, and I caught a glint of his sharp eyes behind his thick glasses.

"I see it is an area I should not venture in." He forgot to put a 'yet' there, because we both know this is not over yet. "Very well." He lied down and placed his hands behind his head, staring up at the sky, assuming a posture of ease. I eyed him with guarded eyes.

He wants me to relax. Well, he will have to try harder than that then. "I want information from you at the right time."

"And what makes you think I have the information you need?"

He rose his eyebrows. "I just know." He said in that annoying, cocky way. My eye twitched. "And what makes you think I will give them to you?"

A corner of his lips tilted up. "Let's do an exchange. I will train you."

I quirk an eyebrow. _Erm...as if I don't get enough training? Actually, it's _because _of training that you broke through my mind... Though admittedly, I can't say my mind has very strong walls up. I mean, just look at the bridge._ I dead-panned. Really, who would have a _bridg_e to represent their state of mind?

"What training?"

He tapped his chin. "Hmm... You have Mist flames which has just surfaced. Your potential interests me. I can help with that." I eyed him cautiously.

"What if I don't want it?" Testing the waters.

His glasses glinted dangerously in the sunlight, and I suddenly wished that I had just accepted his idea.

"I would find other...more convincing way. What I am offering now is a win-win solution, Gioia del Vongola." I flinched at his tone.

_He did research on me. He knows I am a Vongola. He knows he knows he knows I am of the immediate family. _

_He...knows._

_But does he know what to do with it?_

Considering he_ did_ separate with Sepira because he didn't want to co-exist with humans... Well, this is a huge improvement for him then, to actually try to strike peace with a human.

But he is giving me an illusion of choice. It is either I lose something in this, or I gain something with this. And that is an obvious choice to make, of course.

"I will take up your offer. However, I have a few conditions." I said, nodding slowly.

An easygoing smile made it towards his lips. "Oh? Allow me to hear them, please." At least he has manners.

"Firstly, I will only give information to you when I deem that you need to know it." The narrowed-eyes look is back. Ahh, well.

I can't ruin the storyline, but I can't let Enrico and the others die either.

I _can't_.

"I trust that you know what you are doing, human." He replied carefully, and I nodded.

"If you did research about me deep enough, you will know that I am being coached by Mammon. She is a world-class information gatherer, I suppose. Once I am good at those kind of information gathering and actually start selling my services, you can get them for free." I offered. His initial request was for me to give him information, and well, since I had practically rejected that idea of his with my first condition, offering him something of near-equal value should balance it out...

I hope.

He nodded thoughtfully. "I don't particularly need information on humans, but it will be useful..."

I let out a relieved breath inwardly.

"Thirdly, you will coach me on my Mist flames and tell me as much as possible about flames." Nothing can quench my thirst for knowledge, and being in the past makes it even more valuable.

_Knowledge is power._ Master had literally dropped that on me when she intentionally let slip a thick book from her hands on my foot during a session.

Kawahira narrowed his eyes behind his glasses. "I ask for an alteration. I _will_ coach you on your Mist flames, but as for information about flames... I will tell you what you need to know."

Right. Bermuda and the Arcobaleno.

I nodded. "That works... So do we have a deal, Kawahira?" I stuck out a hand, and he extended his to shake mine in a firm grip.

"Wait – how will you coach me? Fly to where I am in the real world?" I blinked.

He laughed, slightly easing the tense and serious atmosphere from before. "In here. Now that your suppressed Mist flames surfaced, you can enter this realm – in other words, your mind, also your world, by will. That takes a little training on meditating, but you can still enter your mind when you sleep."

I blinked, suddenly feeling very tired.

"What – so if you train me while I sleep, what's the point of sleeping?"

"Your body will rest – don't worry, your psyche will too – and my training sessions will be short. I found out a little thing about your body condition, so I am afraid I can't tax you too much." He replied, and I frowned.

Body condition?

"Ah, you don't know that. It's best if you go back and ask your Grandpa though."

My frown deepened, but I shrugged and glanced up at the sky.

I felt a sudden shift in air, and a tug at my heart. I furrowed my eyebrows at the sudden feeling – like a foreign entity entering me.

"Ah... That's my cue to leave. Someone is looking for you, it seems." I look over to Kawahira, who got up and stretched.

"W – Wait! When...when will I see you again?" I grabbed on the edge of his sleeve, scuttling up too.

He looked down at me, then gave me a pat on the head. "Soon." He smiled at me slightly (though it seem more like a sinister smirk) before disappearing in a burst of Mist flames. I blinked, and the tugging feeling became stronger.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood, and I turned around quickly. A hooded figure stood there. A part of my mind is wondering why one came after another.

Wait... The familiar purple hood...

"Master?" I said, slightly disbelieving.

Master looked around, clicking her tongue in annoyance. She looks...young, and she wasn't in her infant form.

"Looks like that doctor was right. You really used your Mist flames. Idiot." She scolded bluntly, and I winced, smiling sheepishly.

"Nice to see you too."

She shrugged and walked around the bridge (there was really nothing much to see, really).

The apprehensive and foreign tugging feeling disappeared as I warmed up to the presence of Master.

Mammon was the best illusionist in the world, after all. Of course she could find a way into my mind.

"Hmm... Your mind...is weird."

I laughed awkwardly.

"Muu. You are ready to go anyway, and I am here on a job." She grumbled, and walked towards me. I blinked at her towering figure.

"Stop sleeping, you idiotic student. Don't be a disgrace to me. Wake up."

I can feel the creeping phrase trailing behind the last words. _Or I will lose my __pay-check._

Oh, and _'__and you will be paying for it_'.

I gulped. "Ah...I'll try?"

She smacked me on the head lightly, and I pouted. "How?"

"Concentrate, idiot."

I sighed, and nodded, closing my eyes.

A cool finger touched my forehead, and a calming sensation washed over me. I felt my knees buckle, and I fell into a pair of warm arms.

"Don't be so troublesome next time, idiot."

* * *

******A/N: Done! :) What did you think of this chapter? Was it okay? How about the interaction between the characters?**

**Congratulations to the 40th reviewer: Yenaya! **

**And do check out Mafia Row by Phantom Hitman 1412, it's an awesome story.**

**Question: What do you think of Gioia thus far? What do you think of the characters of the three brothers (En, Mas, Fre)? How is the pace of the story? Which character do you want him/her to be featured more/written in his/her POV more?**

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**Reviews are lovely! :D**


	15. Chapter 12: Attack

**A/N: I don't own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. All rights reserved by Amano Akira.**

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* * *

I had woken up a few hours ago, greeted by tears of joy (Fre's case), three gaming consoles as get-well-soon presents (Mass-guy is so unique sometimes), a scolding (if I didn't know better, I would say Enrico is my mother), and a lecture (from Nonno...).

They had emptied the room for me to rest, and I had taken it gladly. But now that they are gone, Whitey (The Whitest Room That Was Ever Created or Painted White) looks more empty than ever, and only the constant beep that Will (The Beeping Machine) emits kept me occupied.

What did Kawahira meant when he said my _'body condition'_?

My health? Now that I think of it, Evan was evasive of the topic too...

This is so annoying.

I scowled.

"Still awake, kid?"

I looked up to meet crimson eyes, and I raised an eyebrow. 'The pot calling the kettle black' seems really fitting for this situation. (She's a kid too...well, physically.)

"Hi, Lal!" I beamed, and she frowned at me.

"How are your injuries?"

"Just fine! Sit, sit!" I happily patted the side of my bed, as my hands were too short to reach the chair beside it.

She walked over to me, and settled down on the chair.

"What brings you in?" I smiled at her warmly, and she regarded my movements with a calculating gaze.

"I apologise. For making you go through that training that caused you to end up like this." She stated bluntly, but averted her eyes at the last few words.

I blinked. Then blinked again. I broke into fits of giggles. She turned slightly red. "What are you laughing at?" She asked, slightly flustered.

I tried to smother my giggles by pressing my face to the pillow.

"Lal..." I started, unable to fight down the smile on my face. "It's okay. I never blamed you. If anything, it was my own incompetency. I apologise for that."

She opened her mouth, like she wanted to say something. I cut her off (even if it meant having a death wish). "It's okay, even if it was really your fault..." I smiled at her, and she seem a little stunned for a moment, before recovering.

The eternal serious look returned to her face, and she nodded.

"I see... You should rest now."

I blinked, and nodded my head slowly, my mind drifting back to the book hidden under my pillow. "Okay."

"The book under your pillow, the booklet wedged between the cabinet and the wall, the novels in your drawer and the encyclopedia under your mattress. Surrender them to me._ Now._"

I grinned sheepishly. Why am I not surprised?

"Can you at least leave me the seventh Knowledge Digested issue?"

"There was another one?" I winced. Right, she didn't mention that one. "I am keeping that too."

Oh well...

* * *

"Hi." I nodded awkwardly at the white-haired male staring out into the horizon.

Why does my mind have to be so dramatic? Horizon, seriously?

"Greetings to you too." He nodded to me, and I belatedly felt that the atmosphere between us have somehow lightened after we straightened things out in our previous little chat. Since then, we had seen each other only one time, and we spent that period of time exchanging information – what scarce knowledge I had of him, and what he had on my identity.

That stingy alien. He refused to say anything about my health.

"So...are we starting?" I plopped down on the pavement of the bridge, and looked out into the rising sun too.

I didn't know there was time concept in my mind.

"Yes. Actually..." He frowned. "I need to confirm something first."

I blinked, tilting my head. "Yeah?"

"Focus." I twitched at the sudden command, but reluctantly complied.

He's now my teacher, whether I like it or not.

Closing my eyes, I relaxed my tensed-up shoulders and furrowed eyebrows. I assumed a posture of ease

"Like this...?"

"Now, think of the person you like most."

I snapped my eyes open. "What's with that question?" I asked accusingly, and he sighed.

"It's not like you have a person you are romantically involved in – and even if you do, I don't understand what's the big deal about it – so just do it, troublesome student."

I scowled. 'Troublesome' is overused (on me).

Letting out a breath, I focused on the first person that came into my mind.

_Enrico._

"Now imagine that person in front of you."

I nodded slightly._ Enrico, here, Enrico..._

It was only two minutes after when I opened my eyes, and saw Kawahira frowning deeply at me.

"Er..." I started, but he cut me off. "You don't have good control over your mind." He said, and I blinked at him.

"Usually, people who are able to enter their mind's realm can control them. But evidently, you can't. If you could, the person you were imagining would have appeared."

He sighed. "Your standard is very...let's say, questionable, since people with Mist flames usually have a much stronger affinity with their mental state, and thus stronger control over their mind. That might have something to do with the realm itself, but the whole concept takes some time to explain."

I frowned. "Oh..."

He tapped his chin. "Well, explanation is not needed at this point on the 'why'. We had better train up your control over your mind first. Having a loose grip on your own mind is very dangerous. Especially for Mist flame users. If you chance upon another Mist flame user, you are doomed." He flicked my forehead and I stuck out my tongue.

"Doesn't that mean I was doomed when I met you?"

"Don't mind the small detail." He waved dismissively, and I sniffed disdainfully.

His eye twitched. "Meditation training, _now_. Until you need to go."

"That's so long!" I gaped, and he shrugged.

"You are a human, deal with it."

"Don't make it sound like I have a choice at what creature I'll be!" I huffed, and crossed my legs.

Well, if I am going to do it, I might as well get over it.

* * *

"Massimo, is there something wrong?" Timoteo asked evenly, looking at his son who was panting after running all the way to his office (Timoteo should really increase his son's training, this standard was unacceptable).

"I – I found something." Massimo swallowed, trying to calm his frantic heartbeat and parched throat.

He straightened up. "It seems... It seems someone is planning to harm Gioia."

Timoteo didn't look the least bit surprised. Instead, he looked like he had expected it.

"Someone. So you mean, it's not a famiglia?"

Massimo furrowed his eyebrows. "No. I am ninety-eight percent sure it is a...solo, or at best, group mission. Definitely not a famiglia from the leads I have..."

"Do you have anything else on them?" Timoteo questioned evenly.

"I am afraid that the criminal have infiltrated the Vongola's ranks..."

"I see. Thank you for your efforts, Massimo. I will do the necessary arrangements. For now, it is best that she does not come into contact with anyone not of the immediate family."

Massimo nodded.

"Yes. I will pass the message on to Enrico. Please be careful too, father."

Timoteo nodded light-heartedly.

"Of course."

* * *

Gioia sighed and looked up at the ceiling from her book.

It was stupid – she knew it. Having two baby instructors wasn't enough, and she still had to go look for one of the remaining special species in this world to coach her on her flames, which Evan had specifically told her not to touch or utilise.

Oh well. Her eyes turned back to the thick book in her lap, which was easily two times the size of her face.

It'll be okay. It'll always be okay. She'll hope.

"Gioia?"

The black-haired girl turned her emerald eyes up to meet the shining, silver eyes of her beloved grandfather.

"Nonno?" The girl quickly closed the book with a thump, and put it aside.

Timoteo inwardly nodded in approval at how well Moretti had taught the girl in terms of etiquette (little did he know the kind of...hate relationship they had).

A small smile, a grin, and a hug later, Timoteo found himself seated on the comfortable plush chair beside the hospital bed.

"How have you been feeling, Gioia?"

She beamed. "Just fine, Nonno! Thank you for asking!"

Chuckling at the bright tone of the young toddler, Timoteo patted her head. A light chat started, and both parties were enjoying it tremendously, until the black-haired girl's sudden change of topic.

"Nonno, I have been wondering actually..."

Timoteo sent an inquiring look over to her.

"About... What...what is my health condition. I mean – I don't exactly feel good sometimes, so... And Evan was not willing to talk about it. May I...know about my condition?"

Timoteo almost choked on thin air, but he /was/ a Mafia boss, and retained his image by masking his reaction with light coughs.

"Why would you want to, dear?"

The adamant, stubborn look that Timoteo got so familiar with for the past year went on her face, and he sighed inwardly, knowing it was only a matter of time before he gave in.

"It's a patient's rights to know their condition..." She trailed off.

As much as Timoteo wanted to spoil his grandniece rotten, she was too hard to please. Why couldn't she ask for something normal, for _once_?

"It's classified information, Gioia."

"Nonno seems to know about it."

"That's because I am your grandfather, sweetie." Timoteo almost wanted to massage the sides of his head at the headache he sensed he was going to have.

"I am the person herself!" She protested, and Timoteo mentally counted down to the headache coming upon him as the grandfather-grandniece duo descended into yet another of 'I-want-that-but-Nonno-refused-to-give-it-to-me' talks.

"It's important, we can't let you read it." Timoteo tried to say sternly as he stared straight at Gioia's unwavering eyes.

She bit her lower lip, wincing at the pressure she accidentally applied on her almost-healed cut.

"Please, Nonno? I – I don't want to know nothing about myself." She reasoned, and Timoteo vaguely wondered when his innocent grandniece started having an independent mindset.

He blamed it on genetics.

"Gioia... Please understand." Timoteo continued, and a crestfallen expression made itself known on the girl's face, before being masked up completely by a near-emotionless façade.

Timoteo yet again wondered when and how his grandniece learned how to mask expressions and feelings. It _was_ the Mafia, and Timoteo was trying his best to let the children under his care have fun during their childhood, but Gioia didn't look like she was trying to enjoy her childhood at all. _Despite. His. Efforts._

If he was childish, Timoteo would have let out a _grrrrr_.

But then again, being in the Mafia forces children to grow up faster than they should... And more often than not, children don't really enjoy _being_ in the Mafia.

Isn't this too fast though?

"Nonno, I really want to know about it. I understand that Nonno and Evan is trying to protect me, but I retain my rights." The toddler said evenly, and Timoteo frowned. He understood where this was going, but...

"It's not like you to go against my wishes, Gioia."

The angry frown was back on her face.

"Nonno..." She sighed and started softly. "You cannot protect me forever." Her eyes narrowed in determination. "I need to learn about this, Nonno!"

Timoteo stayed silent, pondering about it. It may be in the best interest for the smart girl sitting up on her hospital bed...but it may be bad too. Timoteo didn't want to know which one was the outcome.

In his eyes, his children will always be his little children.

Looking back up into the determined emerald eyes, he let out a resigned sigh inwardly.

Did he not try hard enough to protect their rights as children?

"I'll call Evan to explain it tomorrow." A bright grin broke out upon Gioia's face.

"You are the best, Nonno!"

She has grown up too quickly, in his opinion.

But as he stared deep into the smiling eyes of his grandniece, he really had to resist the urge to rub his eyes.

The glint in her eyes like she had a plan for everything, like she can and would calculate and expect everything in the world that comes her way, and things that don't go her way...

And the wistful look she had when she thought no one was paying her attention.

Really, she has grown up too much, too soon.

Timoteo didn't like it, the knowing glint in her eyes.

But he couldn't dislike it either, because along with that...

A hopeful look will always be there.

* * *

"You are not staying for dinner?"

Timoteo nodded, gathering some documents and depositing it in his right-hand man's arms.

"Yes. There is an important dinner I must get to... We will need to renew two of our long-term contracts there." Coyote (Timoteo's right hand man, also a loyal and...buff man) nodded to his boss's words.

"I will bring Brow Nie along, so please do take good care of the family." Timoteo smiled lightly at the other man, and walked out of the room.

It has been about two weeks since Enrico's birthday party, and Gioia was healing up well. She had found out about her condition just days before, and her reaction was non-too-pleasant.

Timoteo didn't like the gleam that entered her clear emerald eyes, or the resignation and mist that seem to cloud her eyes for days after that.

She had seem more detached than usual, and Timoteo is starting to doubt himself in his choice (which was something very rare, considering he /is/ the Mafia boss of the strongest family of the largest chain of alliance in Italy, possibly the whole of Europe) of allowing his only grandniece to hear about her own health. As much as Timoteo wanted to stay with the two-years-old (not to mention his other sons, but he has a feeling the youngest needs him more now), he had an important social gathering to head to.

"Inform me of anything amiss. Make sure Gioia is asleep before nine, and tell Massimo and Federico to stop camping out in the game room. Oh, and please tell Enrico to stop destroying the training rooms. Do encourage him to retire to bed earlier today. I will be back by eleven." Timoteo recited, and Coyote wondered if all that was the cause of Timoteo's grey hair.

"Yes, boss." Coyote nodded, and Timoteo stepped into the car.

"Make sure Federico finished his peas."

Coyote mentally face-palmed at how ...nanny-like his supposed-to-be-fearsome boss sounded.

"Of course."

"And-"

"Make sure Enrico does not spend the night in Gioia's hospital room (in which Coyote mournfully thought of how the toddler had tried to literally knock it into his head that the room was called 'Whitey with a capital W'), check the heart monitor, ask about the update of Gioia's condition from Evan, and to see that Massimo did not fall asleep in the game room. Or Fre, from folding the thousand cranes with his algebra textbook pages. Of course."

Timoteo grinned.

"You know me well, Coyote."

Coyote smiled dryly. "I _have_ been your right-hand man for thirty-five years, Timoteo. Just go, I know what to do."

"I know you do. See you later then."

"See you later, worry-wart."

Timoteo shot him a glare as the car door shut, and the car drove off.

Coyote sighed.

Now, to be a babysitter. Sometimes, he really wondered what he signed up for when he aspired to be the Vongola Ninth's right-hand man.

Probably babysitting.

* * *

Timoteo greeted everyone with a polite smile as he walked into the ballroom, a confident air surrounding him, his head held high and proud. His aura flared out in the room, alerting everyone of his powerful presence.

Brow Nie regarded everyone with a cautious eye, standing protectively behind his boss, positioning himself perfectly so that he can jump into combat at any second.

"Thank you for attending this small, humble gathering of mine, Vongola Ninth." A man walked out of the crowd, his own posture defining himself as a person of importance.

_Thank you for showing your face here, it really enhances the atmosphere. But really, this is just a simple little matter I can get done with a wave of my hand. Yes, I am that powerful._

Timoteo, catching the undertone of the young man in front of him, chuckled lightly, tilting his head elegantly.

"Of course, Ravemo Quinto. I am honoured to be attending such a – " Timoteo threw a glance around to regard everyone in the ballroom with a superior gaze. " – gathering. I would really say this is humble of you, holding a party of only such a size." Timoteo replied promptly, and the Ravemo boss turned red at what the Vongola boss was suggesting.

_I am certainly impressed at how well you planned this small-scale gathering. Oh, wait, this was considered big-scale for you? I apologise, I sometimes forget that there are wannabes running around in the Mafia._

"Why, thank you." Ravemo gritted out with a smile, and by then, everyone in the ballroom was watching them. Timoteo's relaxed and strong aura had overcame Ravemo's tense and uptight aura easily.

Everyone watched on with unease, some discreetly, some openly staring. Either way, nobody stepped in. Timoteo smirked inwardly. The fool had invited many influential famiglia, but he certainly did not think of how all the higher classes of famiglias are all associated with Vongola, in one way or another.

Well, Timoteo bet that most of them were only here because they heard that Timoteo himself will be coming.

"Please do enjoy yourself here, Vongola Ninth." Ravemo forced a smile on, replying with a clipped tone. He stalked off into the crowd with his bodyguard trailing after him.

A satisfied glint entered Timoteo's eyes, and he kept up his polite smile as he greeted everyone who came his way.

"Vongola! That was a good show back there." A smile crossed Timoteo's face as he turned to regard the man.

"Greetings to you too, Chiavarone." The grinning blond came, and they gave each other a firm shake of hands.

_The one-hundredth-and-fifty-sixth famiglia in the ranks of the Vongola alliance of two-hundred and sixty-two famiglias, the Chiavarone.__  
_  
"How is your son? Dino, I believe." The blond man smiled at the Vongola boss.

"He's doing well. Speaking of which, I think a tutor will be suitable. You know my ol' body..." The Chiavarone Ninth replied in a hushed whisper, while getting a glass of whiskey from a waiter.

Timoteo nodded gravely. "I suppose so. Would you perhaps be in need of a recommendation?"

The Chiavarone boss lit up. "You have someone?"

A plan began formulating in his mind as Timoteo smiled and nodded. "In fact, he is the best of the best. I would give you his contact later."

The Chiavarone boss nodded. "I owe you a big one, Vongola. May I know his name...?"

Timoteo threw a glance to make sure no one was watching. There might be a lip-reader somewhere.

"Reborn."

The blond heaved a relieved sigh. "The legendary one? Now I really can rest in peace."

"Don't be so morbid, Chiavarone. Things will look better." Timoteo insisted, but the intended meaning was still there.

_Better, yes, for your family, for Dino, but maybe not for you..._

The blond still smiled gratefully.

"Thank y – "

Before he could finish his words, the windows high up, near the tall ceiling burst into smithereens without warning as bullets rained down on the people in the room.

"_R__un_!"

"Cover the boss!"

"Intruders!"

Yells of similar content pierced through the room, and Brow Nie immediately jumped to action in front of his boss. Timoteo kept a passive look on, thoughts at the speed of light flying through his mind.

An ambush. Most people here are part of his alliance. Purpose of attack. Centre. Centre. Placing. First. First in the alliance. Aim. They are aiming for him. His family. His _family_.

Stampedes of footsteps resounded in the ballroom, and glass shards rained down on them as the chandelier fell from the ceiling. The ballroom plunged into darkness. Bursts of flames filled the room, and screams echoed. Bright bursts of different coloured flames smashed against the walls, trying to find an escape route but to no avail with the flames-repellent walls and doors.

A familiar voice yelled out, and Timoteo snapped his eyes to the blond boss who was swept away by the crowd, separated from his bodyguards.

_Chiavarone_. "Brow, step back." Brow Nie dutifully fell back, and Timoteo took his collapsed sceptre out of his blazer.

"Get in contact with Coyote. Something might have happened in the estate. Someone might have taken the chance..." The rain of bullets suddenly stopped, and the air was thick of tension and gunpowder and the metallic stench of blood.

Then men jumped in from all areas – the main door (which was locked from the outside), the broken windows, and from the stage.

_Insiders' job. Traitor. They are aiming for me. They are expecting reinforcements to come and support us. No reinforcements. Estate. They are attacking the /estate/, where the children are. No. No. Solo operation. Someone received the news of an ambush and is taking the opportunity._

Wielding his sceptre, he tore his way through the crowd, and men in black suits who jumped in fired everywhere. Battle came to life as bodies started to litter the ground, blood spilled on the plush carpet, and trays of refreshments got knocked over.

Spotting a dull shade of familiar blond ahead, Timoteo quickly batted away the relieved feeling that sprouted in him as he realised that the blond was_ under the freaking chandelier_.

"Chiavarone. Chiavarone, can you move?" The blond groaned, and the shards dug into his sides. Timoteo pursed his lips, and crouched down, examining the damage.

"V – Vongola... I might – might not be able t – to..."

"Nonsense." Timoteo quickly shot down the idea which the morbid boss (granted, the Mafia doesn't exactly discourage morbidity) under the chandelier, ignoring the chaos in the ballroom as bullets flew over them.

"This is but a small ambush which we can take care of easily. Their target is me, and soon they shall perish. No more of such words, Chiavarone."

The Chiavarone boss chuckled. "Sure – Sure." He wheezed, his ribcage crushed under the imposing weight of the huge chandelier.

As Timoteo worked on moving away the huge chandelier, his mind drifted back to his family.

_The enemy has made a move. A big one._ He worriedly thought, an image of a black-haired girl smiling brightly at him entering his mind.

_Brow Nie better get this done quickly..._

* * *

I yawned while putting away a book in my drawer. It has been two weeks since I was admitted in Whitey, with Will accompanying me, and a few days since I knew of my health.

Needless to say, I was shocked.

I was never this weak, not when I was Juliette... And the fact that I had four flame types. Isn't that like...super rare or something? (Though I can't say that, because Gokudera has five types. Still. It's counted as rare, I guess...) Though, I guess those flames are for naught since Evanis kind of insistent that I should only train my control over Sun flames. (All he cares about is_ health health health_.)

I have to say though, I...am not going to die. I won't die because of some stupid inner sun flames compatibility which might turn against me one day, I won't be subjected to protection forever because I have a pair of weak lungs and heart that could slow to a stop any moment I decided to forgo my sun flames (which I didn't even notice I was using).

I won't die because of such a stupid reason. I will live, and make a difference here. Something here would change for the better because of me, and _then_ I will die. I didn't come here for nothing. Juliette failed to do anything, but Juliette became Gioia.

Juliette didn't have a purpose. Gioia's existence...does.

Purpose, purpose, purpose. Change, change, change. Difference, difference, difference.

And then I will die.

No. And then I will _allow_ myself to die. (Yes, death needs my permission to overcome me and I don't care how wrong that sounds.)

I /am/ supposed to die (if my condition is any indication). So I need to accomplish_ something_ here. I refuse to die without...without doing something meaningful here.

I will _not _waste Gioia's life away.

A quote says that education is the most powerful weapon which someone can use to change the world. (It _is_ true. See what happened in the far future.)

Fortunately, I still have lessons with Moretti (even if I am on a hospital bed), and he had just left a few hours ago (after another of our ferocious debates, of course). I wanted to continue studying (I found an interesting book to revise Calculus...), but then when I finally settled down, Coyote came in five minutes ago to remind me of going to bed.

My thoughts turned to Nonno.

It seems Nonno will be out for this evening. I wonder if Enrico will come to visit tonight with the new issue of Knowledge Digest – of course he will. It's Enrico after a –

A click of my door alerted me, and I blinked. That was fast of Enrico...

But he normally does training until ten. And with how devoted he is to being the Tenth...

My eyes widened.

It's not Enrico.

A few long seconds passed, and I relaxed immediately when NN (Nice Nanny!) walked in. She smiled at me kindly.

"Miss, it's your bedtime."

I nodded at her, and slid under my covers, preparing to go to bed. She pulled the covers up to my neck, and adjusted the heater before checking Will.

I shifted and turned, closing my eyes, ready to go to sleep (and see good ol' Uncle Kawahira, which he insisted in me calling him the day I told him I know of my health condition). The lamp by my bedside clicked off, and darkness filled my vision behind my eyelids.

A few minutes passed, and the silence was deafening. An almost ominous feeling came over me, and I realised that I hadn't heard the click of the door closing which will signify that NN went out.

I opened my eyes, and turned around in the darkness.

A shadow stood before my bed, and fear strike my heart like lightning.

A glint of a needle was visible in the hand of the shadow.

Needle.

_Freaking shit on pancakes.__Shit._

It descended upon me. My eyes widened, and I instinctively jumped out of my covers, delivering a high kick to the blurry edges of the wrist holding the syringe. I barely heard the syringe dropping and a deep voice cursing as my breathing quickened when I saw four arms reaching out behind me, grabbing my limbs.

_Accomplices. When did they get here?!_

I screamed at the cold, chilling feeling of the bony fingers grabbing me.

My vision suddenly went bright as I felt Mist flames flare out from within me.

* * *

**A/N: Done done done. :) What happened to Gioia? Who attacked her? (That person was in the series, make a guess!)**

**Please leave a review!**

**Question: Who do you think is the enemy? What happened to the Chiavarone? (And yes, this will be the time Reborn goes to teach Dino. Hope that gives you an idea about the timeline!) And as most of you have noticed, I do extras of different characters in Change! Who do you want to see featured?**  


**(Note: By the way, check my new DeviantART account if you didn't read the lengthy author note at the front! It's to post arts for my stories up here on . :)**

**Reviews are lovely!**


	16. Chapter 13: Abilities

**A/N: Hi! Another chapter. :)**

**Special mention of a guest reviewer, Flor! She/He is absolutely wonderful and gave me a cool review : Well, that's all! Enjoy this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn. All rights goes to Amano Akira.**

**Warning: (If any) Grammatical mistakes, weird sentence structure, a deeper insight to Gioia's thoughts.**

* * *

My gaze roamed over the three bodies crumpled beside my bed. A broken syringe lay beside one of the man's hand, its substance flowing out freely. I tried to make myself smaller by edging towards the headrest of the bed in the dark room.

My cold fingers grazed the blue-black bruises in a hand-print form on my forearm. Pain shot up, and I winced. I clutched my head, the pounding in my head not subsiding even at the pressure I exerted.

Clutching myself and pulling my legs closer to my chest, held-in tears welled up in my eyes as my gaze lingered on the broken syringe on the plush carpet.

_"Your name is Juliette Williams, and this is your older brother, Julius. Say hello, Julie."_

_"You lost your memories when you fell down the stairs."_

_A shy and hesitant smile. Like he knew something I didn't. Of course he does, I lost my memories after all._

_"You will help with daddy's lab work, okay? Julius is helping out too."_

_"It won't hurt... There. You must get used to this, Juliette. Taking injections is a very common thing to do in helping out your daddy."_

_"Are you disobeying me?"_

_A fearful shake of head._

_"Good. Now take the pills and go to sleep."_

_Screams echoing in the background._

_"You will help in the breakthrough of humanity's scientific discovery. This pain should be nothing."_

_"It hurts... A lot."_

I held back a whimper.

A click of the door.

My head snapped up, and my breathing quickened. My heart felt as if it was going to jump out of my chest.

_S__hit shit shit no no no don't come near me don't don't don't I hate needles I hate I dislike no no no no_

I backed up to the headrest, pushing myself up against it. My hands gripped the thick blanket, and I felt tears well up in my eyes again.

_No, I won't cry. Not again. Be strong, be strong, _be strong_. Even if it __sucks__ to be strong._

I saw a ray of light, and the person opened the door fully. A bright, orange flame was ignited in the man's hand.

I felt a cold sweat roll down my brow.

"Enrico...?" My breath came out, shuddering and weak, almost unheard if not for the silence in the room. He snapped his head to me, and I saw relief flooding his face.

"Gioia..." He strode forward in a few long strides, his flame diminishing as he engulfed me in a warm hug.

I tried not to let my tears fall.

"Enrico... Did I kill someone?" I clutched his shirt tightly, taking in his familiar smell.

He patted my back comfortingly, and glanced around sharply, his eyes lingering at the three bodies which littered the sides of my bed.

"No, you didn't. Listen carefully – you can hear their breathing. Though, they are knocked out now." He gave me a reassuring smile, and I gave him a weak smile.

"Did you do that?" He straightened up, bringing me with him, and I bit my lower lip and nodded.

"Is it bad?" I asked, as he crouched down to inspect one of the bodies – the man who was supposedly NN, and was holding the syringe.

"No." He smirked. "It's absolutely wonderful." I felt a weight lift from my heart at the familiar sight. Enrico is here. He is _here_.

He frowned as a warm orange flame flickered to life on his index finger. Holding it close to the man, he studied the face, and my breath got caught in my throat.

He...seems familiar.

A tweet caught my attention, and I turned wide eyes to the yellow fluff that jumped out of the man's pocket.

A bird. A yellow bird. A...canary.

It tweeted, and I squeaked, clutching onto Enrico for dear life.

He turned his glaring eyes to the bird, who tweeted innocently at him. (Mental applaud inserted for countering Enrico's glare.)

I turned my gaze to the two other bodies, only noticing their...abnormal proportion now.

_The hell? Isn't this..._

"Birds. This is the criminal who Vindice – you do know about them, right? You were reading about it – put up a notice for just yesterday. And his accomplices, also known as The Bloody Twins. This man must have been on his wits end, and infiltrated Vongola's ranks in a desperate attempt." Enrico muttered, and I stared in slight wonder as his flame diminished.

He stood up, keeping a firm grip on me.

"E-Enrico... The bird..."

He glanced at the small yellow puff, which cheeped again.

He sighed. "It's the enemy."

"It can't possibly have intellect that's high enough to know what it's doing is wrong." I protested meekly. He sighed, opening his mouth to reply me when a stampede of footsteps outside had him tense his muscles.

"Wait here, Gioia." My breath hitched as he put me down, and it took all of my self-control to not latch onto him again. My limbs froze as it touched the cool carpet.

Enrico gave me a pat on my head.

"E-Enrico... D-Don't go?" There it is, my selfishness.

He smiled grimly at me (selfish selfish _selfish_, making him smile like that), as I saw from the little light seeping in from the corridor outside.

"I have to, love. I promise I will be back." I felt myself calm down slightly at the sound of him using the pet-name. Enrico spared a glance at the tweeting bird.

"Take good care of that bird over there, okay? Be careful. Birds and his accomplices won't be waking up any time soon, but if they do..." Enrico said while proceeding to smash Birds' and The Bloody Twins' heads on the ground repeatedly, then promptly dropping their bodies and dusting his hands. "Well, they won't now."

I squeaked. "Did you kill them, Enrico?" I looked at the blood seeping out of Birds' head, and the yellow bird flew and landed on the table beside me as it cheeped again, probably terrified at the sudden noise.

He shrugged. "Doesn't matter if I did, but I didn't. The Vindice wants them." He said darkly, and I blinked, suddenly feeling very small as he walked toward me.

"Be careful, okay?" He said softly. "I will be back, just going to check out what's going on." I bit my lower lip as I turned my gaze to the yellow bird.

"Okay. Enrico must be careful too...promise."

* * *

He never did ask me how I managed to knock them out.

In truth, I don't remember much. The warm ache I am feeling just reminds me of how exhausted I feel after that blast of Mist flames. Questions ran through my mind, and I fell back against the wall, tired.

Why did Birds target me? Was Birds disguising as NN from the start? What did he want to inject into me? Will Enrico come back? Where is Fre and Massimo? Is Nonno still at his gathering? Uncle Coyote? The other kind uncles who gave me candies who was always with Nonno?

I am scared. And there's nothing but a yellow bird who is accompanying me.

Well, people did always say to make the best out of the situation.

"Hey..." I started softly, and the bird tilted it's head at me. "What's your name?"

It tweeted, and I sighed, pretending to understand. "Of course that bastardly perverted old man wouldn't give you a name." I smiled sympathetically at the bird. It cheeped.

In agreement, might I say.

"Then...shall I give you a name?" I smiled at it. The canary chirped, and I shook my head.

"But you need to promise me you won't do bad things with Birds and The Bloody Twins any more, and you must not go with them, okay?"

It tilted its head and fluffed up it's feathers.

"I take that as a yes. First off, my name is Gioia. Gioia del Vongola. Nice to meet you." I stuck out a finger, and watched in surprise as it pecked my finger a few times and perched on it.

"Gioia!" It chirped, and my eyes widened in delight.

_It's...so cute._

"Do you know how to say other things?" It flapped it's wings slightly, and I raised a cautious hand to pat it lightly.

It seems to lean into my hand, and chirped.

"Gioia!"

I grinned.

Eh... Didn't someone from the series have a bird like this too?

No one can resist the cuteness, I guess. It's even making me almost forget that I am in the room with three Vindice-wanted criminals.

"Hmm... Your name will be..." I racked my brains for a name.

"Erm..." My mind drifted back to the History book under my cabinet.

"Jews... Juu – Jubilee?" I scrunched my eyes as my gaze lingered on the cupboard in the corner of the room. If I remember correctly, the book on properties of circles – oh, radius. Radii.

"Jubii?" I suggested, then quickly shot the idea down. Who would name a bird after 'radii' and 'jubilee'? Really, why did I even bring my bad naming sense from the future –

"Ju! Jubi! Jubii! Jubii!" The canary chirped, and I paled.

Way to go, Gio, way to go.

"W – Wait, d-don't learn that yet!" I pouted as it continued chirping it's chosen name (it chose it's name, not _me._..well, maybe it's me).

I sighed, ignoring the noisy bird, and rested against the wall.

I pursed my lips as fear crept into my heart again, all previous feelings of joy and amusement chased out by terror.

_Enrico..._

* * *

Mammon flew through the hallways, searching for members of the immediate family of Vongola.

_Boss better pay me well for this..._

Her thoughts drifted back to the student she took in awhile ago, and she scowled.

_How troublesome..._

The girl had just barged into the Varia Castle one day, took over her sanctuary (the library), finished the books in a few months, and went her way to the third part of the course (in which the second part is to learn about the different parts of the various electronic devices which the Vongola and Mammon possessed, and the different forms of information gathering, which the girl excel in unsurprisingly).

She really didn't know what interest her so much about the little girl. Perhaps it's how her thirst for knowledge is similar to her own greed for money. Or maybe it's how her untapped potential to be the best of the best in the informant circle of the Mafia is so painfully obvious. Or maybe it's how she is in the Vongola, and teaching a Vongola is no harm (since it brings in more money and it earns favour for her with the Ninth), especially if it's a member of the immediate family.

She didn't like how vulnerable the girl was though. But it is obvious, very much obvious, that the young girl is sick. Well, maybe not that obvious, but to Mammon's keen eyes, it is easy to tell.

The way her stamina is so bad (not that Mammon can say that, since she herself does not do training, cause oh please, illusionists reigns and it is a taboo to possess physical aptitude as well), that Lal had to cut her training regime into one-tenth (reluctantly, of course) of what child soldiers at COMSUBIN usually take. Also her unnaturally pale, milky skin (though that is not a surprise, considering she had never stepped out any sort of shelter before, except the times Mammon sent her out secretly), her small (for her age) build, not to mention her fragile figure and frame (has the Vongola even been feeding her properly?).

All in all, it disturbed Mammon.

And that was weird, considering nothing ever did that, and her top-class information never cease to let her know something she doesn't.

But. Gioia del Vongola is an enigmatic girl.

Even if she's only two years, nine months and seventeen days old.

Mammon shook off her train of thoughts, and focused on her mission. The main famiglia is in trouble, so the Varia must step in, along with CEDEF. Even if she only joined the Varia a year (almost two) ago, she can see that the Vongola is strong.

And if they are strong, they will be able to help her. Or be of use to her, whichever.

But again, her current mission – to find the girl who calls her 'Master' (because the idiotic Lussuria keeps trying to find out what's her gender – but of course fails terribly at every attempt – and switching to 'Mistress' suddenly is definitely no help to keeping her gender a secret. But then again, the troublesome apprentice was able to get her in a pinch by using tomatoes to find out what's her gender, so Mammon can safely say that Lussuria is one heck of a big idiot in the art of blackmailing and information gathering), is...well, suitable for herself.

Mammon had already found where the girl was with her thoughtography anyway.

She slowed to a stop as soon as she caught sight of the figures in front of her. They turned, and a chill ran down Mammon's spine, followed by a trail of goosebumps.

_Vindice._

"Ah... The Mist Arcobaleno." She bristled at the title, and glared at them from under her hood.

"What do you want, Vindice? What are you doing in the Vongola Headquarters?"

A deep chuckle sent shivers down her spine, and one of the bandaged hooded figures came forward.

Mammon resisted the urge to back a few steps (or just outright run away, but her pride _would not_ allow it).

"We have a target. Would you have any idea where Gioia del Vongola is, Mist Arcobaleno?" He rasped out, almost teasingly (because Mammon _knows_ that they know where her troublesome student is), and Mammon pressed her lips together. She had sensed the burst of Mist flames, and had wanted to check it out, if not for Squalo's stupid plan of 'silent operation' (which was totally unlike him, but he said this was his first mission concerning the Vongola main famiglia directly, so... Stupid shark and his need for first good impressions).

The lingering wisps of Mist flames caught her attention.

She let out a frustrated sigh inwardly, half-ignoring the three Vindice in front of her (and that was a feat in itself, considering they are such attention-seekers).

_Idiot. You haven't recovered fully, and even if you can enter your Realm, you shouldn't have._

"I know where it is." Mammon replied monotonously, and turned a hallway down, increasing her pace. She felt the imposing presence of the Vindice following her, and she ignored her goosebumps.

Turning another few doors down (because memorising the map of the Vongola Estate will come in use one day, and it really did), she barged into the infirmary's hallway, and slammed open the first door on the left.

A terrified squeak caught her attention, and Mammon glanced down at the toddler who was hugging a...canary(?), huddled in a corner of the room.

"M-Master...?" A relieved tone underlined her fearful voice. Mammon quickly accessed the situation in the room, and almost clicked her tongue in annoyance. Fantasma ("the cute little adorable frog" as her troublesome student had dubbed the first time she saw her) flicked its tongue at the three bodies, sensing its Mistress' mood.

Mammon felt a familiar chill run down her spine as three shadows fell over her.

Without warning, chains shot out of the bandaged figures' hoods, and cuffs clicked into place around the three bodies' necks and limbs.

"For the breaking of the Mafia laws article 3.0 and 6.7, you are under arrest by the Enforcers of the Underworld." A deep, raspy voice announced, and black warp holes opened up.

The unconscious bodies were dragged inside, followed by the three hooded figures – and then no trace was left.

After a moment of silence, Mammon glanced at the girl frozen stiff in the corner.

"Let's go, troublesome student. I need to get my pay-check." She grumbled out.

Mammon can't deny that she wasn't glad that the a semblance of the usual shine returned to the girl's eyes as she nodded, smiling weakly.

* * *

"How was your mission, Squ-darling?" Lussuria swooned.

"_Voi_! Don't call me that, you gay!" Squalo gritted his teeth as he pushed the flamboyant male away.

For Superbi Squalo, it has been two years since he had defeated the then Varia leader, Tyr, clinched the title of Sword Emperor, and passed the leadership of Varia into the hands of a hot-headed freak named Xanxus.

And he has not been too happy, what with a prancing male, a greedy baby, a hot-blooded boss, and a too-loyal umbrella-wielding freak.

No, he was not a happy swordsman.

Basically, there are too many freaks, and the atmosphere is polluted by the air those freaks breath out.

"Muu... Noisy bunch." A hooded baby floated calmly through the open door, and into the bar.

"_Voi!_ Shut up, Mammon!" Squalo screamed out as Lussuria tugged on his hair with a 'darling, do you not see me as your wife?'.

Squalo repressed a shiver.

Exactly what did he signed up for when he told (yelled to) Xanxus he will pass the leadership on to him?

Definitely _not _this.

…Right?

He groaned and kicked Lussuria away. "Why are you looking so depressed, sweetie? We can go have an ice cream if – "

"_Shut the hell up_!" Squalo glared at the man who just swooned at how manly he sounded.

"_Shut up_, trashes." A booming voice came over, and Lussuria quickly bowed a little.

"Good afternoon, boss." Levi, who has been quiet from the start, stood upright and bowed deeply.

Squalo scoffed._ Like a dog, really._

"Oi." Squalo threw a report at the glaring teen, and he caught it with an irritated grunt.

"The report on the recent mission." Squalo grumbled, and Xanxus threw the report at Levi, who immediately grovelled at Xanxus' feet saying something about being 'honoured to receive the report from Xanxus's very hands'.

Xanxus stalked off into the bar, and Mammon quickly floated out, sparing only a glance back at the bar.

"He's pissy." Mammon drawled and disappeared in the hallway.

"He's always pissy." Squalo pointed out, collapsing against the couch.

"Oh my, my manly darling sounds cute when he says 'pissy'!" Lussuria stated with a dreamy sigh, and Squalo's eye twitched.

"Oi! Don't you dare call the boss 'pissy'!" The tanned man who wields umbrellas for weapons growled out as he stood up from his position.

"Oh? You wanna fight?" Squalo drew his sword out of his artificial hand, grinning maniacally. However, the grin was quickly wiped off.

"Trash, I said _shut up_."

"Whoever listens to you except the lightning freak?" Squalo retorted. A glint entered Xanxus' eyes. "Are you challenging me?"

"_Voi_! Of course!" Squalo grinned.

Mammon sighed from her place, and quickly turned to go back to her room.

Looks like her (previously forgotten) mug can wait.

* * *

"Birds and his accomplices, the Bloody Twins, has been arrested by the Vindice. They had tried to inject poison into their supposed victim, Gioia del Vongola, and kidnap her to demand ransom from the Vongola. The person he has posed as – one of Federico's and Gioia's nanny, Felicia – has been found dead in the servant's quarters. We have confirmed that it was a three-men operation." Timoteo snapped his folder closed, and nodded at his right-hand man who had finished his speech.

Timoteo stood up. "This is a warning to us Vongola. We had let a mere criminal infiltrate our ranks, and this is unacceptable. Vongola's name will be damaged if the news leaks out, which it will, following the disclosure of Birds' capture. We shall need everyone's effort to build up the Vongola's name – or in this case, repair where it has gone wrong." Timoteo said, facing the large screen in front of him, showing a conference table with many different people in suits sitting around it.

One of them nodded, and stood up.

"On behalf of all the other branches of the Vongola, I give you our word that this matter is as good as solved, Ninth."

Timoteo nodded. "Very well. Dismiss."

The projector shut down, and Timoteo sat down, sighing. Coyote looked on worriedly.

"Are you okay, Timoteo?"

Timoteo pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded. "Just fine. At least the loose ends has been tied up in two weeks."

Coyote took a seat beside the man. "Reborn left for the Chiavarone yesterday, and Gioia has just been released from the hospital."

"That's good then." A smile came onto Timoteo's face. "How's ol' Chiavarone?"

Coyote frowned. "About that... After the attack on the Ravemo gathering, he has been gravely injured, and along with his terminal disease..."

Timoteo's smile dropped and he sighed. "So that's why Reborn went over yesterday." Timoteo grimaced. At least the most suspicious person has been sent away, for now. "Send a bouquet of flowers and a card to wish ol' Chiavarone well." An amused yet slightly bitter smile went on Timoteo's face.

"As much as I would like to see ol' Chiavarone live longer, I am interested in Dino Chiavarone's performance too."

Coyote nodded, and a comfortable silence took over.

Until the click of the door was heard. Coyote tensed, then relaxed as soon as he sensed who it was. Timoteo remained relaxed all throughout, and smiled easily at the small girl who timidly entered the room.

She blinked up at the two men, and squeaked.

"Nonno, Uncle Coyote... Did I interrupt something...?" Gioia questioned hesitantly, and Timoteo smiled at her.

"Not at all. We just finished our business. Why are you here, Gioia? You should stay in your room to rest." Timoteo chided lightly as he swirled his chair around to receive the girl's customary hug.

She smiled brightly at her grandfather.

"I was bored doing maths, so Fre played hide and seek with me, but then Massimo found me in the hallway and brought me to explore the estate, and then Enrico saw us and scolded Massimo for bringing me out and not letting me rest, then I ran to this Wing to find Nonno!" Timoteo's grandniece happily recounted, and Coyote chuckled beside him.

An amused smile slipped on Timoteo's face. "Oh? Math is boring now?" He brought her up to sit on his lap, and she squirmed slightly to make herself comfortable.

"Math isn't boring. But the problems Massimo gave me to calculate were too easy, so..." Gioia trailed off thoughtfully, and Timoteo laughed, swirling the chair in different directions.

The girl let out a squeal and laughed, holding on to the table.

She blinked.

"Nonno? What's this?" She poked the folder.

"Ah, that." Timoteo replied. "It's work, Gioia."

"Math?" She asked hopefully, and he chuckled.

"It _is _partly Math..." Timoteo replied slowly. At Gioia's pleading expression, Timoteo quickly said, "But it's not really Math."

She pouted. "That's contradicting..."

Before Timoteo could reply, a cheep came from outside the door, followed by a knock. Gioia's face lit up.

"Jubii!" She exclaimed, and Timoteo vaguely recognised the name as Birds' canary, who had stuck with the black-haired girl.

Though Timoteo really had to wonder if the Vongola's bad naming sense was passed down to her... (After all, who would name their famiglia _clams_?)

Then again, she is not blood related to him...

He turned his gaze to the person who entered the room, and acknowledged him with a nod.

"It's nice to see you again, Giannichi." Timoteo greeted the inventor with a light smile, and the inventor returned it.

"Jubii!" Gioia rushed off Timoteo's lap, knocking a folder off the conference table as she ran forward to receive the little canary from Giannichi's hands.

"Here, little miss." The inventor transferred the bird into her hands, and she grinned at him.

"Thank you!" She quickly turned back, hands outstretched to show her grandfather the yellow bird, when she noticed Coyote was picking up the strewn papers she had knocked off.

The bird (who has been chirping her mistress' name since it saw Gioia) flew off and perched on the edge of the conference table. Gioia quickly rushed to help pick up the papers.

"Man, the bird sure gave me some trouble while I was checking it over. It's hard to believe it's so tamed in front of little miss." Giannichi scratched his head, then sighed.

An amused smile slipped on Timoteo's face. The canary has been sent to inspection by the Vongola's inventor slash technician – to check whether it is still affiliated with Birds in any way, or if there's any machinery attached to it, and also to make sure it is safe for Gioia to keep.

"Gioia...?" Timoteo's eyes instantly shifted to the girl at Coyote's voice. She had paused midway in picking up the papers. Coyote stared at her, puzzled.

"Gioia?" Timoteo swirled his chair to face his grandniece, and his eyes instantly trained on the paper his grandniece is staring at. Columns of numbers dotted the page, and Timoteo vaguely realised that it was the report on the trades of Vongola's firearm that has yet to receive his approval and inspection.

_Firearm. Shit. Let's hope she doesn't notice the title..._

Coyote seems to realise the same thing, and sent a panicked glance to Timoteo, who took it in stride.

"Gioia, that document is important. Nonno still needs to file it in."

"_Don't_."

Coyote jerked slightly at the sudden heavy tone of the usually upbeat girl.

"Don't file it in." She whispered, eyes still fixed on the table depicting the numbers.

Giannichi narrowed his eyes. "She's...analysing it?" He said, fixed on how the girl's emerald eyes scanned the numbers.

"Analysing...?" Coyote muttered. A moment of tense silence passed, before the toddler suddenly jerked from her frozen position.

"There's something wrong, Nonno." Her eyes turned to meet Timoteo's, and a breath got caught in his throat by how..._intens_e her gaze was.

Just like how _she _was.

Coyote seem to open his mouth to shoot down the idea the girl had, but Timoteo quickly beat him to it.

"Pray tell, Gioia." Timoteo went into a serious mood, which was usually reserved for business.

She stood up and ran to him. Flattening the report against the conference table, she quickly started.

"The numbers don't collaborate. If this is the cost price, then the profit will be..."

That day, the three adults discovered the skill of one Gioia del Vongola – surprisingly (yet unsurprisingly) like her mother, her analytical eye and tabulating ability.

* * *

"Aren't you happy for me? I completed middle school!" I mock cheered, and Moretti scowled.

"You are not supposed to complete middle school at your age."

"You are just jealous." I flipped my hair (which reached my neck now), and he glared at me. I turned my gaze to the canary nibbling on a seed beside me in an attempt to hide from the glare.

I had turned three last week, and finally completed middle school after the torturing year I went through under Moretti. He sucks at teaching.

This time's middle school was like the lower grades in elementary school in the thirtieth century, but I guess that's because in the future, people realised the importance of knowledge.

It's so cool...taking a particular course and learning all about the subject. Well, so far, I have finished quantum physics (because /who/ doesn't /like/ such an interesting subject), and on the way to other things (that interests me, of course. Maybe history? That's a little ironic, but...yeap).

Moretti grumbled and wrote something on the board. I blinked.

"What's that, Moretti?"

"Mafia stuff, smart-ass. Mafia etiquette, speech and all that bunch of things. Your Nonno said to teach you these things." He replied nonchalantly, and I went deep in thought.

Well, this _is_ the Mafia...

"Oh... Any books available?" I asked hopefully, and he threw a glare at me. Moretti faltered slightly when he met my hopeful gaze.

"I'll have them delivered to you tonight..." He sighed.

I beamed.

"Well, at least you are useful for such things. Moretti is so useless sometimes." I stated, and spared a glance at Jubii beside me. "Right, Jubii?" I smiled brightly.

He threw a scathing glare at me.

"_Oi_! I am still here!"

* * *

**A/N: Yay! Featuring Giannichi and Jubii. Please do ask if you have anything to clarify/suggest.**

**Reviews are lovely! :)**

**Question: What do you think about Jubii? (Pronounced: Ju-bee-ai.) What do you think of Giannichi's appearance? Just being curious, but do you want a pairing for any of the brothers (Enrico, Massimo, Federico)?**


	17. Chapter 14: Day

**A/N: Hi guys! My final exams for the year are coming soon, so I may not be able to update as often this month until the third week of October! But – I will never forget you guys or just disappear off the face of Earth when all of you encouraged me so much (on the off chance ****that**** I do, I'll make sure to leave my last words with my friends and tell them to post an author's note here – let's hope not), and I'll make sure to update on****c****e my exams finish!****Thank you for understand (even if you don't, well, here's a Jubii plushie so don't get mad at me), and well.****Chapter 14 – enjoy please. :D****  
**

**And by the way, woohoo! We got a 100 followers, thank you everyone! /sobs/ I am touched. Very, very touched. Thanks to those who stuck with me throughout – and please continue to go on this journey with Gioia! :D **

**Warning: (If any) Grammatical mistakes, wrong sentence structure.****Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, all rights goes to Amano Akira.**

**(And ****–** it's been 87 days since I posted this story, how cool is that? :) )

* * *

"It's been awhile since I last saw you, Uncle Kawahira." I smiled at the man looking out into the horizon (scratch that about my mind being dramatic, I think he's the one trying to act cool).

He turned. "Ah, finally, princess. I was busy for the past few days. You took long enough though." He drawled, settling down on a spot beside me.

"So, what are you doing in the real world recently?"

I hummed thoughtfully, holding up my hand to tick off things that I say.

"I got a canary and named her after 'jubilee' and 'radii', Master is currently teaching me how to do professional hacking, and Lal is making me do punches and work around with my elbows. It seems that she thinks she had worked with my legs enough for now!" I beamed, and he nodded in approval. (Leaving out Moretti was intentional. He sucks for saying Jubii is an annoying bird.)

"That's good, learning how to defend yourself."

"So...what are we doing today?"

He scratched his chin. "Well, do you remember what we did at the start, before the meditating exercises?"

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Er... Imagine the person I like?"

"And you'll do just that." He gestured for me to start.

I blinked, and nodded slowly. "Okay..." Closing my eyes, I relaxed my posture and concentrated.

_Enrico..._

"Keep your focus, but open your eyes."

I opened my eyes, and blinked at the person in front of me.

"Enrico..."

Uncle Kawahira whistled. "Wow, I never knew your favourite person was the in-line for Vongola Tenth."

I flushed and glared at him. "He is just my favourite older brother!"

He rose an eyebrow. "Right, you have lots of older brothers." I wanted to reply that I only have three, but bit back my comment, knowing that deep in my mind, I am wondering...

If Julius is counted as one.

I quickly shook my head mentally. Don't live in the past.

'Enrico' disappeared, and Uncle Kawahira nodded.

"Hmm, at least you got some part of your Realm under control. Good enough. We can work on actually utilising your Mist flames then."

"Does it make any difference? Using them in my mind, and using them in the real world..." I questioned, remembering how Evan had told me that all of my flames are to lay dormant to keep my condition from worsening. Except Sun flames, because of the stupid compatibility.

What can I say? I am rebellious.

Only to Evan.

Uncle Kawahira chuckled.

"Child, you must know that the Mist flames are complicated. You may be practising here all the time, but it does actually apply outside. And since you train inside your mind, there are no physical limits, so you can do it freely. Mist flames enraptures and captures, unravels and ravels, shrouded yet uncovered to be nothing."

I blinked and nodded slowly, storing his words into my mind for future reference. (I really hate it when he talks as if he's really old, although I know he's _old_.)

"For the past few months, we have been focusing on drawing out your Mist flames and finding their root in your body through meditating. Meditating calms the heart and mind, thus it should be easier to call out your Mist flames and not exhaust yourself now."

I nodded to his words, and turned to face him while adjusting myself to sit in a cross-legged position on the ground.

He smirked, and his right hand lit up with an indigo glow, which then burst into beautiful flickering flames.

"Ready?"

I scowled.

Nonno was out today with Uncle Coyote, Uncle Visconti and Uncle Brow, so I am left with Enrico, Massimo, Fre and the rest of Nonno's guardians.

Of course I would be happy. Fre and Massimo even asked me along for a picnic with them (and Enrico!) in the backyard, and from what I saw from the windows, the backyard covered a large area (I think they had a personal golf court somewhere in there), and I couldn't wait to get out of the estate (since I have never been let out of the estate much before, except my Varia trips).

But.

_But._

I glared angrily at the woman who clung to Enrico's arm like it's her lifeline. This _bimbo_ had to ruin our perfect family gathering.

I looked up when I heard footsteps approaching me. A smile made its way to my face.

"Uncle Ganauche! Uncle Bouche!" I beamed, and Ganauche patted my head and squatted down to my height. He grinned at me (being the most easygoing out of all of Nonno's guardians). "Yo, lil' princess. Whatcha staring at?" My eyes trailed over to where the main door of the estate was – large double oak doors with intricate designs carved on it. And where the stupid bimbo is trying to tug my oldest brother's arm off.

I scowled again.

"I think she's trying to pluck off Enrico's arm. It can bring a pretty hefty sum in from the black market after all." I commented sarcastically, and Uncle Ganauche laughed heartily.

"You are a smart kid. Well, I don't really like that girl, so why don't we do something to scare her off?" He suggested, and Uncle Bouche slapped his head.

"Timoteo will kill us if we teach the Princess something wrong!" He whispered harshly, though I barely took notice of it as a plan began formulating in my head.

Uncle Ganauche just laughed. "Why not? We used to scare off Timoteo's pursuers together too!" Uncle Bouche frowned, a thoughtful yet conflicted look on his face. "Well..."

I looked down from my position when I heard shuffling and the noisy chattering of the bimbo. I squeaked, and tried to push Uncle Ganauche behind the wall.

"Enrico and bimbo are making their way up here! Hide!" I gestured wildly to the grand staircase, where the bimbo is marvelling about how expensive and pretty everything looked.

Yeah, the Vongola don't do humble acts much.

He chuckled, and I felt a warm, shimmering feeling encase me. I jerked, recognising it as...

Mist flames.

I looked up at Uncle Bouche, who smirked at me. Enrico and bimbo walked past us without noticing us at all. I grinned. This is the basic technique of Mist flames – masking presence.

Well... I never did try it out in the 'real world' after all, and Uncle Kawahira said to not hide my abilities, or it will just be complicated to explain later on (I'm _never_ thrilled to explain...usually that's up to Fre when we were caught doing something wrong).

Raising both hands, I furrowed my eyebrows and tried to call out the familiar tugging in the pit of my stomach. An indigo glow pulsed within my hands, and I feel the familiar tug get stronger. Wisps of indigo flames circled my hands, and I grinned (though it's a little hard with all the focus it takes to do a trick like this).

Uncle Bouche's eyes widened.

"Y-You..." I flashed a toothy grin at him and allowed my Mist flames to dissipate. Doing a peace sign, I saw Uncle Ganauche's eyes widened as well as he realised what I just did.

"Right... Timoteo told us you have Mist flames too..." Uncle Bouche crouched down to my level and patted my head. "I never thought you would be able to call it out though."

I pouted. "I like Mist flames, so I will work hard!" I peeked around the corner to see the bimbo fawning over...a vase.

What a bimbo.

I scowled again, and quickly turned back to Uncle Ganauche and Uncle Bouche.

"Uncle, don't tell Nonno that I drove the bimbo away, okay? Nonno said she was from an allied family, and we can't be impolite to her. But she ruined Gioia's off day, so Gioia will ruin her day as well." I nodded at my own logic, and Uncle Ganauche laughed, while Uncle Bouche smirked.

"Have fun then. Though, I am telling your Nonno of your Mist flames, okay?"

I pouted. "Okaaay... But I don't need another instructor! I can take care of myself." I puffed my chest out proudly, grinning (while mentally shuddering at the thought of having _another_ teacher).

Uncle Ganauche laughed.

"Sure, sure."

* * *

Enrico left her alone at the pagoda we had in our garden (just a small fraction of our backyard, of course).

I sneaked out, masking my presence with a thin veil of Mist flames (to be honest, these are really useful...but I only know how to do the masking of presence), heading to the bimbo.

I sat on the stone bench, and made myself comfortable. Looking up, I raised an eyebrow at the bimbo sitting in front of me filing her nails. Well, she wouldn't have noticed me even if she was paying attention.

Uncle Kawahira is a good teacher after all, not that I would actually say that to him. His ego is too big.

Dispensing my Mist flames, I let out a yawn, and she dropped her nail filer with a yelp. Looking up in surprise, her expression quickly turned from shock to realisation, then to a fake sugary look.

"Ah, little girl, what are you doing here?" She asked sweetly (I mentally shivered and vomited a thousand times).

I smiled back as sweetly. "I just wanted to talk to you. Who are you?"

Be happy and glad that I would even want to know your name, brother-stealer, gold-digging, fake, bimbo.

Wow. I have quite a list of description for her.

"Ah, my name is Stefano! Who might you be?"

Money-grubber. Worst than Master.

...Uglier than Master (even though no one ever sees her face).

I smiled brightly.

"Just a servant's kid!"

Her face instantly dimmed, and she scowled at me.

"Then why are you talking to me, lowly one!" She snarled, flinging out her nail filer to continue filing her nails, her previous attention at me completely gone.

"I thought you were the one that Vongola Nono adopted, but apparently not. Of course, you are just some useless kid." She grumbled, and I rose an eyebrow.

Right, of course the news of a new family member of Vongola would be easily leaked out to the Mafia. And of course people would think I am adopted.

But I am _not_ useless.

I haven't been working hard for the past two years in this time just to be called 'useless' by a bimbo.

I scowled and clenched my fist, all traces of amusement gone. Angry Mist flames gathered at the tip of my fingers, but I held it back and stood up, turning and walking away without so much as a glance back.

She will get it, that shitty attitude.

* * *

I spied Enrico and that bimbo Stefano as they walked towards the kitchen, Enrico acting his part as a gentlemen, though I could very well see the subtle twitching of his eye signifying his discomfort.

I crept up to the kitchen counter (it's one of the smaller kitchens we have in our waiting rooms), and frowned when she pressed herself closer to Enrico.

_Bimbo_, I seethed.

Whipping out a pair of scissors I got from Fre's room just now, I let my Mist flames cover up my presence, all the while snipping the scissors threateningly.

Grabbing a handful of her hair (long and smooth and blond, borderline fake, _sooo_ unlike Mama's...), I snipped it off. Then I wrinkled my nose. Not enough.

Snipping off another huge chunk of her hair, I giggled slightly and ran back to my room (which was near this particular waiting room). A few minutes later, a satisfying high-pitched shriek of a certain bimbo rang out.

I smirked.

Now, should I empty her bank account next, or do the classic prank of drop-the-pail?

A chirp. I blinked, then turned to look at Jubii who had just finished her lunch. ...Drop-the-pail it is. Money can always wait, if it's for getting Enrico out of his pinch.

_(Though that's not how Master taught me, but hey, family over crazy Masters.)_

* * *

I fidgeted sheepishly when I saw Hilbert and some other men of the Vongola repainting a wall. Right, I do recall Fre and I using it as a goalie for our soccer game last week, and needless to say, the wall got dirtied with how the dirty ball got slammed into it multiple times.

Hilbert spotted me.

"Ah, Princess." He grinned and waved at me, I walked towards him, peering curiously at the pail of paint on the ground (suddenly, the chemical formula of paint ran through my mind, but I quickly pushed it over because chasing the bimbo away is obviously more important).

"Yeah, er, yes?" I quickly corrected myself, remember what Moretti taught me about Mafia speech etiquette.

"Please don't use a perfectly fine wall as a goal post next time."

I cringed. "Sorry." I smiled sheepishly, and suddenly, an idea formulated in my head. I blinked.

"Err... Hilbert, can you let me borrow this pail? And any leftover paint you have, please."

* * *

"Enrico... I can't take this any more! I got tripped twice and my hair got cut off! Just who was it?!" She yelled frustratedly, and Enrico mentally wallowed for his ear.

Stefano was from an allied famiglia (if Gioia was here, she would be saying something along the lines of 'just cut our ties with that famiglia. Her attitude sucks.'), and her being the daughter of a Mafia boss who Vongola can't exactly ignore as they are allied, makes the situation worse.

And well, he had a pretty good guess who exactly cut off the for-crying-out-loud-stop-screaming-my-ear-off girl's hair. Not that he was about to say it.

It was pretty funny, at the expense of his ear, of course.

"No, I didn't see who it was." Enrico replied stonily, walking forward in a brisk pace.

He spared a glance at the window, frowning slightly. Their family bonding time were cut off because this woman wanted to visit the Vongola Estate. Well, it was better than this Stefano person joining them for their little picnic...

But still, this was annoying.

The girl harrumphed, walking faster to get slightly forward.

Enrico sighed and looked out of the window mournfully. _Girls._

_No, only Stefanoeans in general_, Enrico thought mournfully as he recalled Gioia's hopeful and cheerful smile when he promised her of the picnic the four of them were going to have.

He spied a certain yellow canary chirping at him from outside the window.

_Jubii._

"Oh, oh, oh, Enrico, what's that room? It looks so _shiny_!" She exclaimed (more like shrieked) as she rushed into the room with a half-closed door.

Half-...closed?

One thing about the maids and butlers (and nannies and majordomo and nurses and _everyone_) which everyone around knows is that...

They are freaking OCD and full-time Vongola-style perfectionist (which means they break the scale of what is of a perfectionist – the perfectionist of all perfectionists in the world of perfectionism, and then again, Enrico doesn't know what he's thinking any more as his mind screams effing 'DANGER'.)

Jubii stopped chirping and flew away.

Bad sign. (Gioia was known to always hide before one of her schemes or pranks on Evan worked, so it's not that far-fetched for her bird to act the same.)

"Wait – " A scream echoed through the hallways, and Enrico sighed as white paint splattered on the carpet, followed shortly by the muffled clang of metal meeting carpet. He slowly made his way to peer inside the room.

_Her calculation abilities scares me sometimes..._ He pursed his lips when he saw Stefano sitting on the floor, covered in white paint (which looks really hard to get out of...), an empty metal pail on the carpet, attached to a rope and subsequently connected to...oh wow, what an intricate set-up.

Enrico, being the gentlemen he was, quickly ran out of the room, with a mumbled excise to find a towel (though he doubted it will help much).

A smile burst forth from his lips as he thought of the comical reaction of the clingy girl who got paint dumped on her.

His sacrifice (of his ear) is not in vain, after all.

* * *

I clicked my tongue in annoyance, my eyes running through the string of numbers I had just memorised.

Well, hacking into the personal account (I am not about to deplete their family fortune, since it is too complicated to hack into a famiglia's account, considering how I am just getting used to the lesser technology of this time) of one Stefano Peragina is a little hard, considering I was still a beginner at hacking, and a Mafia boss's daughter will obviously have more-than-enough protection for her account.

I smiled triumphantly and attacked the 'enter' key on my keyboard.

Apparently, not enough.

I watched in satisfaction as the records of all the transaction of money into and out of her account appeared on the screen, replacing the lines of numbers and letters.

_Wow, the bimbo sure spends a lot. And the hell? Blue rhinestone dress at a few ten thousands? Fri__gg__in' __rip-off.__ Oh well, it's bimbo branded._ More sarcastic remarks ran through my mind as I scrolled through her records.

Well, it isn't unheard of that a three-years-old have a bank account with millions in it, right?

Master always told me to get rid of people who doesn't see me in the right eye, or doesn't give money.

I beamed and my hands flew over the keyboard.

Hmm... I better be quick with this online adventure of mine, since this is Fre's laptop, and it wouldn't do good to let him find out that I am in his room...without him. (He'll probably treat it as me wanting to play and ending up playing by myself without him...)

* * *

Massimo lay sprawled on the ground and yawned.

Federico rolled around on the picnic mat, droning on about geography to himself. Massimo glared up at the sky. "Just where the hell is Gioia? Don't tell me she decided to ditch us cause big bro ain't coming for that Stefano chick."

"I would hardly call that bimbo a chick, Massimo." Gioia drawled, stepping out from a shade under a tree. She beamed, and Federico jumped.

"Gio! Don't sneak up on us like that!" Federico pouted, and Gioia laughed.

"Sure, sure..." She plopped down on the mat and grabbed a sandwich from the picnic basket to munch on.

"Ah... Isn't that Enrico?" Massimo pointed out lazily at the pair who were walking through the corridor of the fourth floor. Gioia glanced up and shrugged. Massimo mentally shivered when a glint entered Gioia's eyes. _Please please please don't let it be another crazy plan of hers._

"Since Enrico is a little busy today... Can we play baseball?" The black-haired girl pointed to the field on the left of them, and Massimo shrugged.

"Do you even know how to play it?"

Gioia laughed and grabbed Federico's hand, pulling him up (though it was mostly on the boy's own accord, or she wouldn't even be able to make him budge). "I know the rules." _And how to play it, only I never tried it._ Massimo can imagine the rest of the sentence left unspoken. He sighed, and got up, stretching.

The trio made their way to the baseball field, with them deciding that Massimo will be pitching, and Federico and Gioia will learn how to swing a bat.

"It's all about muscle memory, kiddos!" Massimo gave them a thumbs-up and ran to the pitching spot. "I'm pitching!" He holler, and the girl gave an okay sign.

"Go ahead!" Federico yelled back.

Massimo threw the ball with minimal strength, though the ball still flew fast towards the girl. She grinned, and positioned herself to hit it.

_Oh no...wait._ Massimo thought in horror as he saw the slacking of the girl's arms.

_She isn't planning to hit it from the start! _Massimo watched as the ball flew past the pair, and Gioia nonchalantly dropped the bat,_ like the business was already done._

Before Massimo could figure or even ask himself _what business it was_, a sickening thud sounded, and a shriek rang out.

Massimo paled when he saw the girl Enrico was supposed to guide around holding her head, screaming at said host about how a series of unfortunate events have happened to her which Massimo had no doubt that _it was intentional, hundred-percent __man-made__ and caused._

The girl wailed as she sat on the floor, with Enrico looking exasperated. Gioia discreetly exchanged a small grin with Federico from the corner of Massimo's eyes, and he mentally wept at the _sudden realisation that his family was weird_.

As Enrico led the noisy girl to the Vongola's very own infirmary, Gioia and Federico burst into laughter together, and Massimo plopped down on the ground, mentally exhausted.

Massimo sneaked a peek at the girl, who was joking around with Federico, giggling when he tripped over the bat, before reaching over to help him up.

Massimo's eyes narrowed slightly.

_She had calculated_ everything._ It's almost like a prediction, like she could see a few minutes ahead of everyone. From how Enrico will reach the ground floor in seven minutes, the velocity of the ball I am going to pitch... Heck, how does she know the annoying girl will be walking along the open corridor and that the ball will hit her?_

_Gioia... You are truly scary._

Massimo dead-panned when the girl tripped over the bat and landed on Federico with a yelp.

_Well... Maybe not._

* * *

I crept down the grand staircase, Mist flames out and masking my presence (it's also partially cool to see the shimmering veil over my sight).

Enrico and that irritating bimbo (who had borrowed our shower to wash the paint off and subsequently_ exclaimed_ about how big and spacious and how she would _love_ to enjoy the shower everyday to the whole wide world) had just hit the bottom step, and I grinned before bouncing down the stairs to them.

Reaching out a hand to grab hold of Enrico, I suddenly remembered that my Mist flames were still kept on, and quickly changed my focus to dispelling them.

A jolt shocked me, and coughs wrecked my body. The Mist flames were forcefully snuffed out, and I fell on my knees, suddenly feeling very exhausted.

Right... In the end, I am only three. I shouldn't have done all those reckless things without sparing a thought for my own flame reserves and body condition. (I can almost hear Uncle Kawahira saying "I told you not to do that, human." Freaky alien.)

"Gioia?!" I see the blurry form of Enrico kneeling beside me, holding me by the shoulders.

I am so selfish... Nonno will be angry.

I let out a humourless laugh, and tried to regulate my breathing. It wouldn't do good if I collapsed... And I am not done with the bimbo who was probably fawning about how Enrico is so kind to a servant's kid in her mind.

I blinked a few times, and I looked up at Enrico with a grateful smile.

"I am fine, sorry." I croaked out, realising that I haven't had time to stop for a drink (or even my lunch except the sandwich, but nobody needed to know that or I would be grounded in my room for three days...as what the Vongola-style punishment for kids under twelve is).

Enrico ruffled my hair, his eyes holding a glint of worry. I smiled, and Stefa-bimbo cooed by the side (we were having a siblings moment, can she not?).

"Aww, Enrico dear, you are so kind... Are you okay, little girl?" She sent me a sickeningly sweet glance, as if the conversation in the garden didn't happen, and I mentally shivered.

Enrico turned stony eyes to her. "I am taking Gioia to the infirmary to get checked out. Please do wait for me in the waiting room, and I apologise for any inconvenience caused." He replied, his tone flat.

I am surprised the girl can't feel the insincerity of his words.

"Ah, it's fine, Enrico dear, but did you really have to do that? She's a pitiful little thing, but in the end it is Vongola's kindness that got her the freedom to move around the estate, since she is just a servant's child. I would think that I am of much more importance than this poor little creature here – "

Enrico turned his dark, glaring eyes back to the person rattling off like she _owned the place_. "What did you just say?" He muttered darkly, cutting the girl off instantly. "Servant's child?"

I was too tired to even laugh at the scene unfolding before me.

"I'll have you know that she is actually my little sister, and I definitely don't appreciate someone calling her a servant's child." He growled, anger rolling off of him in waves.

I resisted the urge to laugh (because I don't want to spoil my progress in regulating my breathing for that gaping bimbo).

She stuttered. "W-What? L-Little sister...?" She turned accusing eyes to me. "She told me she was a servant's c-child!"

Enrico shot her a death glare, and I heard a pair of footsteps running down the staircase behind me.

"Gio! Are you okay? Did the big bad lady with weird hair push you off the stairs?"

It physically hurt to hold back my laughter.

Enrico stood up. "I will have to ask you to leave, Miss Stefano. Whatever misconceptions you have about Gioia – do just remember that she is the prized treasure of the Vongola, and any insults, whether intentional or unintentional, will be taken seriously."

_Oh...wow. I feel bad now._ I watched in pity as the bimbo paled with every word.

"By criticising Gioia del Vongola," he continued. "You are indirectly criticising the Vongola Ninth, as with the rest of Vongola. We will be letting this time pass with minimal damage to the Peragina famiglia, but please be reminded that there _shall not be a next time_. Kindly see yourself out in the next ten seconds, or my men won't take to your presence kindly."

I see Hilbert standing by the hallway, an unnaturally serious face on his face as he regarded the girl standing shell-shocked.

A glint. He has a _gun_. _Oh what the hell did I do._

Enrico tilted his head elegantly.

"Well?"

With that one word, she burst into tears and fled out of the estate.

Enrico relaxed his tense shoulders, and sighed. Quickly heaving me up – my arms naturally going around his neck to keep myself up – he started brisk-walking to the infirmary. Fre had quickly held onto Enrico's shirt.

"You... Gioia, don't do something so reckless next time. What else have you done to her?"

I shrugged, my shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

"I may have become a millionaire in the last two hours." I smiled weakly at him, and an amused smirk came upon his lips.

"It won't do good for Vongola's reputation if every girl who comes here gets their bank account empty."

"There will be more?" Fre and I asked at the same time, and I groaned at the aspect of seeing more stupid women.

"Hmm... Depends." He pinched my nose. "You cheeky little girl. My ears suffered so much." He groaned slightly at the memories.

I laughed, and high-fived with Fre.

"What can I say? I am a genius, after all." I beamed.

"Well, _genius_, you are going to get an injection if you don't stop doing reckless things." He replied dryly, apparently not at all impressed.

I pouted at his threat, knowing that he was not serious at all.

* * *

"How is Gioia?" Timoteo made his way into the infirmary, where the girl in question slept soundly on one of the beds with a yellow canary resting in a small basket beside her.

Evan looked up, and motioned for Timoteo to go outside for the talk.

The door closed behind them, and Evan smiled grimly.

"Well, first. Congratulations. Your grandniece discovered how to use her Mist flames – "

"And went around using it to prank the Peragina who was here today. Why am I not surprised?" Timoteo cut Evan off, his tone dry and unamused.

Both men exchanged looks and gave out exasperated sighs. "She seem to have overestimated how much Mist flames she is able to dish out, and ended up overexerting her body. It's good that this is not a severe case; nothing a little more sleep can't make up for. Though it will be advisable for her not to do that next time."

Evan grimaced. "When she uses her Mist flames... It seems that it will pressurise her other flame waves. Her Sun flames were being suppressed too much today, thus resulting in her organs slowing its operation down. I would suggest for Lal to start work on her Sun flames soon. If it was unleashed the way it was with the Mist flames, she might not survive. Not to mention her Cloud and Lightning attributes."

Evan massaged his temples. "Troublesome girl. That's why... Nonno, I would like to ask of your Lightning guardian's help to seal her Lightning flames. She _must not_ use them. It will endanger her life _too much_, not that it's not endangered already."

Timoteo let out a frustrated breath. "If it helps, of course. I will tell Ganauche tomorrow."

Evan smiled slightly. "Of course. Please do it soon, preferably while she's asleep. I think she would throw a fit if she knew."

Timoteo thinned his lips, not liking the idea of doing something to his grandniece behind her back. "Yes, I will make sure of that."

Evan tried for a smile. "Well... At least her Cloud flames are okay. It has been the most stable out of all her waves, as we had seen while monitoring her. Her Mist flames pressurise her body condition, her Sun flames keep her alive but are easily manipulated by other sources, her Lightning flames – she can't use them. The Lightning flames' property is hardening. It will take too much of a toll on her body as the property goes against her." Evan took a breath, exhaling it as a sigh.

Timoteo felt a twinge of sympathy. They all knew the work needed to take care of an enigmatic girl such as Gioia, who never asked for something normal pertaining to her age. ("Nonno, I can't reach the book on the tallest step. Is it possible to make a ladder that is longer – " "I'll get Hilbert to help you take it. _Please_ don't try to climb up again.")

"Only her Cloud waves and flames are stable – it has not reacted or reflected anything detrimental to her condition so far. It is understandable, since her body seems comfortable with having Sun flames, and Cloud flames' property of propagation, is similar to Sun flames' property of activation. It will be safe to let the Cloud flames lay dormant in her body. Besides, sealing too many waves in her body might prove to be dangerous to her already unstable state."

Timoteo nodded, and relaxed his tense shoulders. "I would like to think that she will have more self-awareness after she knows about her condition." He massaged his temple.

"It's a lot of work for me too." Evan sighed, and shrugged. "Well, she'll be fine by morning. I'll let her go after one final check tomorrow."

"Thank you." Timoteo gave a pat on the shoulder to Evan, and the doctor grinned.

"No problem. I like princess anyway. Her eyes are pretty, and in twenty years – no wait, ten years, she'll look drop dead gorg- " A thud sounded, and Timoteo's eye twitched, his hand going back into his pocket to keep his collapsed sceptre.

Coyote peered over from the corner. "The usual, Timoteo?"

Timoteo sighed. "If he would just get his attitude of chasing anything in a skirt under control..."

"Like Shamal."

"Actually, Shamal learned that from Evan."

"Then again, Gioia doesn't like to wear skirts, so she doesn't wear it." Coyote reasoned, and Timoteo paused.

"Then doesn't that mean Evan is worst than Shamal, since he chases people who are not in a skirt as well?" Coyote continued.

"I don't really feel thrilled at the news." Timoteo replied dryly.

* * *

_Sometimes, the sun sets earlier. Time seems to go faster. Fleeting moments. Lingering memories._

_...Days just don't last forever. _

_All that can be done is to remember what you cherish, and cherish what you can remember._

* * *

**A/N: Another chapter! AND THERE'S THE FORESHADOWING QUOTE HAHA :D**

**Reviews are lovely.**

**Thank you for all those who reviewed, I am really thankful! I get really encouraged by your reviews. :)**

**Extra dose of Enrico today! :D**

**Question: More things are revealed about Gioia. What do you think of her condition thus far? About Enrico's and Gioia's relationship? About the FORESHADOWING? :DDD Annnd, well the serious stuff's kicking in pretty soon. Just saying. XD**


	18. Extra III: Lal

**A/N: Congratulations to chibi-no-baka for being the 60th reviewer! :DDDD Thank you guys for your support! Here's a snippet on Lal, our training instructor of Gioia!**

**We are reaching 70 reviews, 100 favourites and 120 followers soon! Thank you for all your support, guys! :D**

* * *

Her crimson eyes held an eternal glare which was shot at everyone who met her eye.

She looks like a lost puppy, even with the confident strides she took and the menacing aura she gave out.

What made them friends?

She was not so sure about the 'how', rather more concerned of the 'why'.

Maybe it was because they were polar opposites.

Maybe it was because both of them were so strikingly similar yet so different.

Ysabelle really didn't know how to describe her days at COMSUBIN with one Lal Mirch.

* * *

The blond girl peered around curiously, her bright emerald eyes taking in the environment almost hungrily.

"I heard there's a Vongola in here..."

Ysabelle blinked as she heard her – newly given – surname. "Yes, instructor? That's me." She supplied helpfully, and the adult at the front zoomed in on her.

"Right, yes. Introduce yourself, cadet!"

Ysabelle blinked and laughed, finding the sudden title interesting. "Cadet reporting, sir! Ysabelle del Vongola!" She grinned brightly, and suddenly yelped.

Turning behind her not-so-discreetly, she met crimson eyes.

"That hurts."

The blue-haired girl didn't look like she was interested in replying her, even though the sudden pinch of pain was _clearly_ her fault.

"Apologise!" She demanded, barely taking notice of the instructor's words – _"take a five and be back by one-one-oh-two!"_

She met her eye, bored.

"You were noisy, cadet."

And left Ysabelle gaping in the middle of the field, during her first day in COMSUBIN.

* * *

Lal was never interested in anything. She certainly hadn't pinched that cheery blond girl in front of her to help her (after all, being in the combat elite force isn't _funny_).

She let her gaze trail over her new squad mates, and scoffed quietly to herself. Shoving a mouthful of salad into her mouth, she let her thoughts trail over and around.

Lal winced as a squeal sounded from one of the girl cliques which was newly formed today. They had better not last (well, most girls don't, since they scream for their daddy after a week here), because the girl certainly wouldn't tolerate those ear-piercing annoying screams they just_ had to_ do for some shitty reason –

"Can I sit here? I'll just sit here." Lal let her gaze trail up to meet a pair of emerald green eyes.

She smiled at her.

"I am Ysabelle del Vongola! Nice to meet you."

"Go away." Lal replied bluntly, going back to her own salad.

The blond girl still sat down, much to her discontentment.

"There's no other seats around, so I can't go away."

Lal let her eyes scan the crowd, then scoffed. "Go sit with the barbies." Ysabelle wrinkled her nose. "Ew. Sorry, no. I might accidentally add up to the unsolved murder cases in COMSUBIN."

Lal rose an eyebrow, not expecting the cheery girl to reply this way.

Slowly, she allowed a smirk to form on her face.

"Lal Mirch. It's not nice to meet you."

* * *

Later, to a blond girl's delight and a blue-haired girl's dismay (read: delight, with cherries on top), they were sharing the same dorm room.

Much to their dismay, Barbie 1 and Barbie 2 are in the dorm room across theirs.

Oh well. They were just thankful that there was no 'Amanda' and 'Ken', whoever the hell they are.

* * *

"I am bored, Lal! Entertain me!" Ysabelle demanded almost childishly while swinging her legs.

"Shut up." Lal Mirch mumbled, continuing her reading of a thick book about the history of COMSUBIN.

"What's so good about that book?" The blond girl sighed and poked her friend's cheek. Lal slapped her hand away absent-mindedly. Ysabelle pouted and lay sprawled on her friend's bunk.

"I can't believe I picked such a boring person as my room-mate..."

"Would you rather room with a male then?" Lal retorted, irritated, as she snapped her book close. Ysabelle beamed at her.

"You stopped reading! Finally decided to spend some time with your best friend?"

"No." Lal replied bluntly, getting up to put away the book.

Ysabelle stuck her tongue out. "I know you don't mean it. I am going to take it as you don't mean it."

"Feel free to deceive yourself and avoid reality. I hope you take a long walk off a short pier." Lal said, and Ysabelle collapsed on the bed again.

"That course of 'Delivering Sarcasm Politely' seems to have helped you a lot, Lal. Did you _really_ mean it?" Ysabelle hugged Lal's legs, wriggling on the bed and messing up the carefully folded sheets.

"Yes, now get_ out_ of my bunk!"

* * *

Ysabelle delivered a spin kick to her opponent, and dodged an incoming swipe by stepping a few steps back.

She feinted a high kick with her left leg, throwing her hand back to prepare the momentum of the real blow. Her opponent quickly ducked, taking the bait and dashing to Ysabelle.

Ysabelle's fist slammed into the man's back, which earned a grunt from said opponent. In a flash, her right leg went up to knee his guts. After a moment of silence, a sickening thud made itself known as the man slipped from Ysabelle's grasp.

"Spar zero-two-five, Ysabelle del Vongola!"

Cheers erupted from the sidelines, and a satisfied grin broke upon the blond's youthful face. Turning to her left, she waved enthusiastically at Lal, who was watching from the sidelines. Said girl glared at her, which elicited a giggle from Ysabelle.

Stepping down from the duel area, the two girls walked off.

"Your high kicks improved."

Ysabelle smiled brightly. "I know, right? They are my speciality after all!"

"What a weak speciality." Lal grumbled out as she bought a can of drink.

"Hey!"

"Once your leg is grabbed by the opponent, you will lose all advantage and flow of battle." Lal pointed out, popping open her can.

"Well..." Ysabelle looked thoughtful. "Won't you just have to be fast enough to avoid it? It's like how guns are deadly and fast, but if you know the trick to dodging it or rendering it useless, it's not all powerful any more. The same for the reverse roles!" She beamed, buying a can of drink on her own.

"Well... I suppose so." Lal agreed subtly.

* * *

"Lal, who's that?" Ysabelle glanced at the man walking beside Timoteo, who was on one of his rare visits to the COMSUBIN training base.

"He's the Ninth boss of Vongola."

"In case you forgot, he's my uncle? I meant the person beside him."

"Oh." Lal looked up from polishing her rifle to glance at the pair walking along the sidelines of sparring areas. "That's Reborn."

"Reborn...?" Ysabelle furrowed her eyebrows.

"He's famous with his gun. People say he will be the world's best hit-man in a year or two." Ysabelle silently stared at the man, assessing his statistics.

"No..." She murmured. "In three months. In three months, he will be the best."

Lal looked up from her rifle to see the glazed over emerald eyes of the woman beside her.

"If that's what your information and assessment says." Lal replied, trusting her friend with her speciality of being able to gather information whenever.

Ysabelle snapped out of her thoughts, and turned to Lal with a sheepish smile. "Well, sorry. Force of habit."

Lal snorted. "I don't mind, as long as you still give those information to me for free."

"What are you saying?" Ysabelle hugged the blue-haired woman, earning a yelp from her as the magazine of the gun dropped from her hands at the sudden weight.

Ignoring Lal's 'get-away-from-me-right-_now_' glare, she laughed.

"I will do anything for you, Lal! You are my best friend after all!" A blush fought it's way up Lal's cheeks, and she glared harder.

"Just get off me, idiot."

"Yes, yes." Ysabelle stood up and stretched. "I'll go say hi to Uncle."

She skipped away happily, and Lal picked up her cloth to continue polishing her rifle.

She would never admit that it made her very happy when Ysabelle said that they were best friends.

* * *

"Hi, Uncle!" Timoteo looked away from the spar ongoing in front of him, and smiled at the sight of the blond woman running to him.

"Ysabelle..." Both hugged and exchanged greetings, before the blond turned curious eyes to the man wearing a fedora beside Timoteo.

"Uncle, who is he?"

"Ah... He's the new hit-man I got associated with." Ysabelle nodded, and extended a hand towards the man.

"My name is Ysabelle del Vongola! Nice to meet you!" She smiled cheerfully, and the man shook her hand in a firm grip in a suave way.

"Reborn."

She released his hand, and her smile turned slightly mysterious.

"Are you aiming to be the best?" She asked, and the hit-man turned his gaze to Timoteo, who just chuckled.

Reborn smirked. "Are you going to tell me I will be the best in time?"

Ysabelle rose an eyebrow. "Probably. But my prediction is always correct. Maybe not as good as the Giglio Nero's...but good enough."

Reborn narrowed his eyes. "You are the information gatherer of the Vongola."

Ysabelle shot a smile that seems to convey more than her previous bright ones at him. "Why, yes, you are pretty sharp."

Reborn pulled his fedora down to shade his eyes, and smirked. "I am."

"You will be the best in three months, top." He looked up to see her blond waves tossing carelessly in the wind, her back turned to him as she is ready to leave.

"I always knew that." He replied haughtily, and the blond turned back, slightly surprised at his tone, then laughed.

"You are interesting. I'll see you some time again." The blond bid farewell to her Uncle, and sent a quick smile at Reborn.

_See you around, indeed._

* * *

"I really didn't expect this to happen. This is so cliché I want to go back to bed." Ysabelle dead-panned, and Lal got her machine gun ready.

"Stop whining and get going, idiot. There's an_ attack_, in case you didn't notice."

Ysabelle yawned. "Whoever they are, attacking in the middle of the night makes them cowards."

Lal glared at her, and she quickly got her pistol. "I get it, I get it..."

Footsteps and yells broke through, and a bloodthirsty smirk went on Lal's face.

"So it begins."

"The battle between soldiers and cowards." Ysabelle said, before strolling out of their dorm room.

Lal slapped her on her head as they stepped out of their room.

"You could've died, being so careless while stepping out!"

"Aww, does Lal cares for me?" Ysabelle laughed at the red which invaded her friend's face. Before Lal could lash out on the blond, a strong voice yelled at them.

"Soldiers, hurry up!"

Lal saluted, and Ysabelle quickly followed suit. Both women ran out of the dorm and rushed to the site of battle, where the clanging of weapons and exchange of bullets can be heard.

Billows of smoke can be seen, and haze invaded their nostrils.

Ysabelle frowned deeply, and coughed slightly.

Lal sent a concerned glance her way.

Ysabelle sent a small smile at her. "Peachy."

Lal rolled her eyes. "Just run to me when you can't take it any more."

"My lungs aren't that weak." Ysabelle argued.

"As a matter of fact, it is, so just listen to me." Lal muttered and sighed as she ran to her squad, assisting them.

Ysabelle pouted, but ran to her squad as well, dodging past her comrades to the front lines.

"Soldiers! Push them back!" She heard Lal roar, and her adrenaline pumped as she heard the battle roar on, with her in the midst of it.

"We are the Combat Elites! Push them back!" Lal commanded, and her squad roared in agreement with Lal in tow.

Ysabelle coughed from the smoke, but raged on with her squad as they pushed past the enemy's defence line.

As an enemy rushed at her, she feinted a swipe kick, before ducking and sending a punch to his guts. Another immediately pounced upon her, and she grabbed and judo-flipped him quickly, making sure to make his head contact with the ground a little harder than usual.

Whipping out her pistols and wielding one in both hands, her eyes glinted and a near-maniacal look entered her emerald orbs.

_Velocity of bullet, positioning of hands, and opponents. Chances of missing. Percentage of possibilities. Recoil. Time._ Numbers flew through her mind, and bullets flew out of her pistols. Five opponents lay sprawled on the ground, writhing in pain.

"Next time, don't interrupt my sleep or set the main building on fire, _bastards_!"

* * *

"Wake up, idiot."

Ysabelle groaned and pressed the pillow to her head. "No."

"Wake up _now_."

She shot off her bed, sensing the dangerous tone behind her friend's voice. "I'm up, I'm up."

Lal heaved her rifle over her back and went to the door.

"It's the day of the examination. Hurry up."

"Sure, sure." Ysabelle drawled, and crashed into the cabinet while grabbing her pistol.

Lal face-palmed and sighed. "I'll wait for you outside, ditz."

"Mmph!" Ysabelle replied, in the midst of wearing her uniform.

* * *

"Congratulations, Soldier Lal Mirch." Lal nodded her thanks, received her machine gun and trotted off.

Ysabelle cheered and clapped from her place at the graduation area.

Lal went to stand beside her, and a rare smile on her face. Ysabelle grinned.

"Finally, Lal!"

Lal blinked, then smirked slightly.

_Finally, indeed._

* * *

"Jobs? Never thought of one!" Ysabelle replied, bouncing happily around the room.

"I'll miss this place so much! We lived here for years after all!" Ysabelle sighed happily, deciding to drop down on her bunk bed.

The room they were in were plain and bland, with all their personal items packed and kept already.

"What about you, Lal? Any jobs you are considering?"

Lal shrugged and took a seat opposite Ysabelle on her own bunk bed.

"I am thinking of being a commander here."

Ysabelle's eyes twinkled as she laughed. "Right, who wouldn't want the best soldier of the batch – and possibly the whole of COMSUBIN – to be a commander?"

Lal threw her pillow at the blond, who ducked and stuck her tongue out at her.

"You had better think of something to do." Lal grumbled out, and Ysabelle blinked.

"I am the information gatherer of the Vongola, is that not a job?" A real thoughtful look entered her eyes, and Lal sighed.

"Maybe. Well, yeah."

"I hope you have fun! Being a commander, I mean." Ysabelle hummed happily.

Lal looked up at her.

"Yeah."

* * *

_Dear Lal,_

_How are you? I am fine over here._

_It has been awhile since I saw you. I heard you got promoted. That's a piece of wonderful news. I really hope to see you soon, but with all my work and matters, I am afraid it will take awhile._

_Those matters aside, what about you? Is it hard being a commander? Are you feeling stressed lately? Don't be, okay? (I know you are!)_

_I heard Iemitsu offer__ed you a position of his Mist guardian. What do you think of it?_

_Hope to hear from you soon._

_Love, __Ysabelle_

* * *

_Ysabelle,_

_I am fine, blockhead. What do you think you were doing? Not contacting me for a year full. I thought you got yourself killed._

_That seems like some pile of work you got that. Don't bother coming, I am busy nowadays too. There's one annoying soldier who wouldn't stop pestering me, but other than that, the duties are nothing. (No, I am not stressed. I was.)_

_About that offer... I will need to think about it. I think I like being a COMSUBIN commander._

_Lal_

* * *

"Lal! Over here!"

Lal couldn't believe that she had used an off day of duties to meet her best friend for _ice cream_. Training was acceptable, but for a frivolous reason such as...a lump of cold thing, Lal definitely didn't know what made her go.

She settled down in her seat in front of the blond, a little disgruntled.

"One bowl of vanilla and chocolate chips ice cream!"

"Coming right up, Missy!"

Ysabelle grinned at her friend, who just glared at anyone and everyone who dared look her way.

"Aww, my little Lal has longer hair now!" Lal slapped away her hand irritatedly. "Don't you have your own hair?"

Ysabelle just laughed. "But yours have a nice colour!"

Lal glared, then softened when she saw the barely noticeable dark rings under her friend's eyes.

"You stayed up again."

"Hmm... Maybe?" Ysabelle smiled tiredly. "I can't believe it has been years since we saw each other."

"Hm." The waiter brought the ice cream over, and Lal ate hers absent-mindedly.

"It has been awhile."

"So...tell me more about your commando life?" Ysabelle beamed, and for once, Lal thought, she was glad to have such a friend. A friend with a smile that could lighten her day.

Maybe it won't hurt to make an exception this time.

"Hm. There's this annoying student of mine named Colonnello..."

* * *

"_Colonnello!_ Stop napping! Lunch time is over!" Lal roared, the butt of her pistol slamming into the blond's head.

He yelped, and shot up. "Okay, okay! Chill down, Lal! How many times do I have to tell you to be more feminine?" He grinned at her, and she turned red.

"Just get going!"

"Aww, does Lal care about me that much?"

"Enough to put a bullet through your head." She replied levelly, fighting down her blush.

"Aww, you don't want other women to have me, and you think you can't have me, so you are going to kill me? Possessive much?" He winked. "I'll _always _be willing to accept you, beautiful." Colonnello laughed at the dumbstruck face of his instructor, who promptly proceeded to whip out her pistol.

Colonnello's laughter died down as bullets flew towards him.

"Don't be so serious!" He yelled while breaking into a run.

"I'll show you what's serious! Get back here, coward!"

"No! Even if I might die in the beautiful hands of yours – "

"_DIE_!"

* * *

"You idiot."

"Is that the only thing you know how to say now?" Colonnello smiled at her tiredly, his usual shine and bright smile gone.

Lal bit her lower lip and looked away.

"You idiot."

Colonnello chuckled.

"Same to you, Lal. Why didn't you tell me?" Colonnello pulled her into a hug.

"It will be fine, okay? I'll go find that Checkerface bastard and punch him in the face so hard he'll be deformed for life."

Lal couldn't find the strength to push him away. Tears blurred her vision.

"You idiot."

"Haha! I know!" Colonnello pulled away, and smiled at her. "I know I am one."

Colonnello extended a hand to touch Lal's cheek, wiping the tears that fell off.

"It will be hard at first. But it's okay. I am not the best soldier of my batch for nothing!" Lal couldn't find it in herself to avert her eyes from the determined blue ones.

"I'll always come back for you, Lal. I'll do anything for you." Lal's eyes widened as his hand dropped to his side.

_No_, she wanted to say, but couldn't.

She couldn't chain him to her. He will be better off elsewhere. All she brought to him was trouble. Trouble, trouble, and more trouble. And now he took her place in The Rainbow Curse too.

"You idiot."

"I know I am." He replied softly, then looked up in the sky. The infant smiled.

"We should go our separate ways."

_Stay,_ she wanted to say.

"It's better for us to heal this way."

_Stay with me_, but she couldn't say anything.

"I'll get better with my rifle. So good so that I can rival you in terms of skills one day."

_I'll teach you forever, just stay, don't leave._

"We'll meet again."

_Don't leave don't leave don't leave._

"Goodbye, Lal."

_Don't leave me alone._

* * *

"Lal?!" The infant looked up, and collapsed on the plush sofa. "What." She retorted rudely.

Iemitsu shook his head, then sobered. "What...happened?"

"Rainbow Curse happened." She replied bitterly, grasping a tea cup and bringing it to her mouth. Iemitsu nodded, frowning. "I see." Silence ensued, and Lal finished her chamomile tea, placing the cup back on it's saucer.

Iemitsu, still deep in thought, looked up and blinked when he saw Lal staring at him.

"I quit the COMSUBIN." Iemitsu's eyes widened.

"But you said you liked it there!"

"I did, but this form is simply not suitable any more." The infant gestured to herself, looking more crestfallen than anything. "So, that's why I am here. Do you still have your Mist guardian spot open?"

Iemitsu blinked in surprised, then smiled and nodded.

"Welcome to the CEDEF, Lal."

* * *

"She...what?"

Lal blinked, shock dotting her features.

"Ysabelle...died...?"

Timoteo nodded mournfully. "I am afraid so. I am sorry for your loss, Miss Lal."

_I am sorry for _you_r loss_, she wanted to say, but could not get it out.

"I just found out too."

_Oh_, she wanted to say. She wanted to say anything, but shock kept her mouth shut.

_I am all alone now._

* * *

Then she met a familiar pair of emerald green eyes again. Then she began her job as an instructor of the fragile girl who resembled her late best friend.

Then...she always looked forward to seeing the same ferocity in her eyes which she missed witnessing for years.

Then...

She missed her.

* * *

"Oh." A silky, dark chuckle. "I am just surprised. The CEDEF of Vongola doesn't really get into contact with us much... you see."

Lal scowled, then turned away. "This has nothing to do with the CEDEF. Just bring me to him, Vindice." She replied harshly, and the bandaged figure turned down a hallway with a slight dark chuckle.

The appointed Vindice had quickly went off after dropping her off at the intended cell. She turned her eternal glare to the man inside the cell.

"Alexandro Bellincioni." She snarled, and the man walked out of the shadows of the cell, chains attached to his wrists and legs clinking with every step.

"Yes, someone called for me?" A lazy smile went up the haggard man's features, and Lal struggled to keep the hate off her features.

"You had killed someone during the Dolceacqua feud."

His smile turned dry.

"I killed _many _ones during the feud, infant. Or should I say... Arcobaleno?"

Lal bristled, her glare growing more venomous.

"The women you killed. Tell me_ everything_."

"Please be more specific. I killed many women, really." Alexandro squatted down at the gate, keeping his lazy and taunting gaze on the infant.

The blue-haired had a rifle shoved up his throat in a second.

"You have three seconds to start spilling everything about a blond." The man choked at the sudden pressure, and backed a few steps from the dangerous weapons.

He let out a hoarse chuckle.

"She was just on the run, gun in hand, bag over shoulder... Thought she was from the enemy famiglia, and did away with her with a shot." Lal gripped her gun tightly at the nonchalant manner of Alexandro.

"What about the baby?"

Alexandro rose an eyebrow.

"Baby?" He let out a laugh. "Oh, _oh_, that shitty baby who screamed so much that I killed with a shot." He smiled deviously, and Lal would very much like to _rip his throat out stuff his guts in his mouth and -_

_He got the wrong person, he must have. Or he didn't know there was a baby. Ysabelle must have hid her well, or maybe conjured up an illusion to fool this person. That is the only way – she is not so weak as to die from a gunshot to the stomach so quickly, she can move – no, she must have sensed the danger lurking, and calculated that there is close to no chance for her to get out of it __unscathed__ with the brat. She used Mist flames, she used Mist flames and – and she knew that creating an illusion would cause her her life and she still did it. He didn't know – her murderer, didn't know._

Her trail of lead...

Lal gripped her gun and walked off in the dark corridor without another glance at Alexandro.

Timoteo del Vongola... A crafty man he is. He had all but built dead ends in her trails of lead, only narrowing it down to a single one, chaining Lal to the Vongola, to working for them without any thought of betrayal simply because _she can't_.

Dangerous.

Lal decided the del Vongolas are dangerous, no matter how harmless some of them looked.

She allowed a bitter smile to cross her face as she exited the dark underground base of Vindice.

_That's why it's not advisable to get close to people or form close relationships, Lal._ She clenched her fists. _Look where you got doing that._

_First with Ysabelle, second with Colonnello..._

The third?

She decided she didn't want to know.

* * *

_The marks humans leave are too often scars._

* * *

**A/N: Done! :) What do you think of this little extra of Lal? I personally like the Colonnello part. Their interaction is so funny. Well, 0-1% of Gioia here – sorry! There will be more of her in upcoming chapters after all... XD****Question: Which part is your ****favourite****? What more do you want to see in the next chapter? Which character(s) would you like featured in the next extra(s)? :)****Any guess on who the 'third' Lal mentioned is? (Yes, there is a third.)**

**And, well. I feel guilty for not posting a regular chapter here (just so everyone knows, every five chapters, I'll be doing an extra). So... Just a little sneakpeek.**

"I refuse." Timoteo dished out blandly, pushing the document in front of him away in the slight disgust he had allowed himself to show (which was barely a fraction of his _real_ amount of disgust, and that's saying something).

Iemitsu's eyes narrowed. "I ask for your consideration in this matter, _sincerely_, Ninth."

The CEDEF and the main Vongola rarely had any fights or disagreements, given that CEDEF _is_ a part of Vongola. Now, the respective bosses were on the verge of glaring their eyes off each other – that is, if no one took the initiative to resolve the issue between them.

"I will not, I emphasise, _will not_ let my grandniece be involved with the workings of Vongola, much less be the strategist of our operations. She shall not be involved in the Mafia world – " Timoteo shook his head, as if clearing his head of such thoughts and righting them (everyone knew it sounded pretty tempting, to have the former world's best strategist's daughter take over the post, but Timoteo _will. Not. Relent._) " – not now, not when she is only _four years old_."

**Aaaand, that's it. :D So, what do you think that suggests? I think I revealed quite a bit. Oh well! After this extra, and the next chapter, an arc will start and overshadows the daily life arc I am having now. (However daily that may be XD) May that arc – well, may my sadism be ever in your favour. (Not sure how that works out, but yeah).**

**Ciao ciao! **

**Reviews are lovely. :**


	19. Chapter 15: Seeking

**A/N: Yay! We've reached a milestone, chapter 15! Allow me to add a little side note for this joyous occasion...**

**As an author, I think that chapters are our carefully stringed words. They are picked one by one out of thousands and millions of words – or even more than that amount, and authors spend long periods of time to arrange and place them accordingly, forming a chapter (and subsequently a story) ultimately.**

**It's sort of an analogy thing, comparing...err, let's say, knitting and writing. If you think about it and compare their processes, they are pretty similar, actually.**

**Sorry for the long author's note! Please enjoy the story now :) (Pretty sure most of you skipped that chunk up there, but yeap!)**

**And - we reached 120 followers! :D thank you for all your support, guys!**

* * *

All I heard was a loud bang, which signified the start of this crazy mess I got myself int. (But of course I got out of it...)

The loud bang came in the form of the door bursting open – yes, literally outright bursting open, into splinters and pieces of wood.

I had gave the weird assortment of teenagers a dead-pan expression, before saying the killer words.

"Take some lessons for mannerism, please."

Then came the barrage of response thrown in my face.

"_Voi_! Who do you think you are talking to, brat?!"

And actually, to be honest, that was the only response I heard out of the jumble of shouting the Varia gave me, since it's the loudest and most coherent.

"Well, obviously I am talking to you bunch of ill-mannered kids."

And that's a large leap in _my_ side, considering I am only...three years and four months old?

A "_VOI_!" came, followed by the stampede of footsteps and a peak in the murderous intent I felt from the group.

"Boss, I will definitely catch that impudent brat for you." Apparently not waiting for the reply of his beloved boss, an owner of a different voice turned to me and started charging my way.

I grinned.

"You want to play hide-and-seek with me?" I executed a mocking bow, and turned away from him.

"Try to catch me then! Oh wait, that might be a little hard, considering your build. Hmm, how about you spot me three times and you win?" I dished out the rules, ignoring his footsteps which are getting louder, and his deep voice yelling about how I am mocking him.

Smart-ass, of course I am mocking him. Ha. Ha.

Anyway, his voice sure was deep for a pubescent teen.

Just as his hand was about to grab me, I turned and sent him a playful grin.

"Not yet!" And I faded off.

Well, not really. Only in others' perspective. I giggled, seeing his bewildered expression as he turned everywhere, trying to catch a glimpse of me.

In the past few months, Uncle Kawahira taught me how to do the basics with Mist flames – masking my own and others' presence, turning invisible to naked eye, and transporting from one place to another using the flames (well, this is advanced, but don't mind the small detail, and I suck at this anyway), masking pain – making the pain seem lesser. None of this required an illusionary aptitude, which is perfectly fine with me, with how Uncle Bouche told me that I can never afford to hold out illusions for long with my health, even if I can do them.

_I'll wither away, my life force will be drained much faster _is what he meant, but of course he couldn't say that to a child. It was enough to bring his point across, though. Uncle Kawahira told me that he wouldn't be teaching me how to do illusions and all that gig with Mist flames. Maybe a little – Uncle Kawahira is a stickler to his own rule of 'weapons are the best when they can be materialise out of nowhere (for the sake of the element of surprise) and that would mean you make your own weapon.' (Why would I need a weapon is the question...)

I am fine with it – not doing illusions. Thankful, even.

If that meant I can live a little longer here... Because really, I am kind of thinking I don't have much time left, even though Evan's report (which I secretly sneaked a peek at) stated that I would live till my twenties at least, if I don't overexert myself.

Clearly, not overexerting myself is not what is going to happen, but what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? Of course.

Well, time to test that out.

I sidestepped the tanned teen's waving hands, and skipped lightly to face his back. Pulling down my Mist flames, I let out a laugh to alert him of my presence, and subsequently delivered a high round-up kick, holding on to the element of surprise with an iron grip.

He stumbled, his eyes wide as he narrowly dodged my kick aimed at his face, and I let out another laugh.

"Levi looks stupid now."

He spluttered and got back on his feet, glaring at me (probably because I embarrassed him in-front of his beloved boss, but then again, the rest of the group kind of left without him, so...).

I beamed at him, dodging one of his parabolas which he quickly got from his back. From the corner of my eye, I see Xanxus, Squalo (begrudgingly) and Lussuria walking up the grand staircase.

I dodged another one of his wide swipes, and pointed at the group.

"They are leaving without you, paedophile."

He flushed red at the insult, but ultimately decided to run after his boss (who of course, meant the sky, earth, whatever shiiz in the world to him).

I laughed.

The big show is coming up in three- two, one.

Zero.

A can of paint dropped on Squalo's head as Levi stupidly tripped over a wire at the stairway. (Pretty sure Xanxus, Squalo and Lussuria saw it, but avoided it.)

White paint splashed against Xanxus's coat, dying it a pure white colour, while said cursed white colour dyed the second-in-command of Varia's hair...white.

Which doesn't really make a difference, but this was one of Master's assignment – find out which hair colour Superbi Squalo really has: silver or white.

I whistled, breaking the delicate silence.

"So you actually have silver hair!" I laughed, and ran down a corner, ignoring the murderous intent directed at me.

"_VOOOOI_!"

"_Get the trash_."

Xanxus's voice rang out through the empty hall, and I can hear two pairs of heavy footsteps going after me. (Lussuria probably stayed with Xanxus to fawn over his damaged designer coat, then ultimately get blasted away because Xanxus finds him...or her, annoying.)

Mist flames engulfed me, and I darted around corners to get to the parts of the estate where they are supposedly the furthest from my position.

I squeaked when I hit a wall, my Mist flames dissipating.

Okay, maybe not a wall.

Wincing, I held my head, and glared half-heartedly at Massimo. "Massimo!"

"Aha... Sorry." He quickly helped me up, and patted my head. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

I shrugged. "Not much. You?" He chuckled. "You are like an ant to me, Princess. You should eat more – "

"VOI! Found you!"

I laughed awkwardly at the exasperated sigh Massimo heaved, like this has been the nth time I did this.

It's only the eighth time, so...

And it's for the sake of information gathering. Master is just too reserved to use such ways to get information on them (even though she _lives_ with said people).

I yelped when I got lifted up by my shirt collar, and made exaggerated choking sounds.

"Hey, let her down." Massimo glared at Squalo, and I saw _it._

His eyes, they are burning orange like Enrico's when he came in my hospital room to save me from Birds.

Squalo took a look at Massimo, then scoffed and dropped me down unceremoniously. I landed with a thud on my bottom, and I glared up at the silver-haired swordsman.

He began waving his sword and artificial hand in a huge ark, engaging in a verbal battle with Massimo, the latter shooting him down with ease.

I stiffened slightly when a trail of Mist flames caught my attention. I discreetly averted my eyes to the hallway on my left, and saw a flutter of a coat. Suppressing my grin, I masked my presence slowly, making sure both (arguing) parties did not notice me, and crawled over to the next hallway, where I subsequently made myself invisible and ran after Master.

* * *

Timoteo kept up his glare, refusing to let himself lose his cool at the preposterous plan the man in front of him came up with.

But, the head of the CEDEF, also known as the Young Lion of the Vongola (given that said person actually isn't really that young), was not to be trifled with too.

Comparing the both though, Timoteo definitely fits the bill for the more experienced, mentor-like position.

"I refuse." Timoteo dished out blandly, pushing the document in front of him away in the slight disgust he allowed himself to show (which was barely a fraction of his _real _amount of disgust, and that's saying something).

Iemitsu's eyes narrowed. "I ask for your consideration in this matter, _sincerely_, Ninth."

The CEDEF and the main Vongola rarely had any fights or disagreements, given that CEDEF _is_ a part of Vongola. Now, the respective bosses were on the verge of glaring their eyes off of each other – that is, if no one took the initiative to resolve the issue between them.

"I will not, I emphasise, _will not_ let my grandniece be involved with the workings of Vongola, much less be the strategist of our operations. She shall not be involved in the Mafia world – " Timoteo shook his head, as if clearing his head of such thoughts and righting them (everyone knew it sounded pretty damn tempting, to have the former world's best strategist's daughter take over the post, but Timoteo _will. Not. Relent_. " – not now, not when she is only _four years old._"

"But age does not matter in the Mafia, and I ask for her to only start work at five, or even seven!" Iemitsu insisted. "Hit-men had went as young as five years old - and Young Miss Gioia's abilities and capabilities are what we are very clear of. Not just us, Ninth, but the Varia and the other heads of the branches of Vongola."

Iemitsu continued boldly, even after seeing the conflicted and deeply-frowning face of the boss of the strongest Mafia famiglia in Italy. "Furthermore, the Young Miss has Mist flames. _Mist flames._ I am aware she has less-than-favourable health, but we can work around with that. I heard she has Sun flames, too. The CEDEF is lacking a Sun, we can definitely give the position to her."

Ninth held back a growl, just short of flinging his sceptre at the man to shut him up at such blasphemy Iemitsu presented him with (trust him, it was a _very, very_ tempting thought).

"_No_. She is too young, and I wish to keep her untainted of the Mafia."

"She will be tainted in the end – with the connection she has with the Vongola. I don't mean to question you, Ninth, but I think she _knows _about what the Mafia does. I heard she had finished off the Varia's library? She will definitely know what Mafia is all about. Besides, we can assign the titles to her now, so that she can be granted the protection following the positions, and have Young Miss Gioia work when she is a little older."

"I prefer to prolong her untainted state, Iemitsu, and I _will not _allow Gioia to do this. She is a smart girl, and I do not doubt that she knows what our real line of business is. The issue here, however, does not concern her knowledge about what we do. It is not necessary for her to be involved in the business – much less when she is only _four_ now." Timoteo insisted, his hand coming down hard on the oak table before Iemitsu could put another word in.

"My words are final, Iemi – "

A creak of the door had both parties frozen. The veterans of the Mafia world vaguely wondered if they had been getting rusty, to let their guard down during their heated discussion.

Eight-years-old Federico's apologetic face came in view, and Timoteo quickly beckoned him in. The blond child shut the door behind him with a click.

"I apologise for intruding, Dad, Sir Iemitsu." Timoteo waved off his apology.

"How much have you heard, Federico?"

The blond came to stand beside Iemitsu. "Only the last few minutes... Dad, are you really going to let Gioia join the..." The child seems tongue-tied, as if he couldn't put 'Gioia' and 'join Mafia' in the same sentence.

Timoteo rubbed his temples. "No, I refuse to." The child's expression lightened slightly, though the crease in his eyebrows did not cease.

"Ninth, I _really_ ask that you consider this. Her analysing skills and calculation abilities are just what we need in the Vongola." Timoteo pressed his lips in a thin line at Iemitsu's words.

"We could always employ Mammon to do those!" Federico countered, getting slightly angry at Iemitsu's insistence.

Iemitsu calmly glared down at the young boy in a subtle way, careful not to spike Timoteo's already risen anger. "That money-grubbing illusionist? She may be a master at what she does, but her service charges are high – we cannot afford to have her services regularly. She is a master at extortion as well. Plus, her loyalty is questionable."

"She belongs to the Varia, so your last point is invalid." Federico gritted out.

"Precisely my point – if she is with the Varia, who would to say she wouldn't turn on us? They are an _independent_ assassination squad. We need our own strategist, since we have been going with no pros for three years – "

Timoteo slammed his hand on the table. "Enough! Do you not see me as the one in-charge any more?" Both blonds stiffened, with the younger one offering a soft apology.

Timoteo let out a sigh, letting a hint of annoyance touch it.

"Iemitsu, my words are final. I do not wish to speak of this matter until a later time."

"How late, Ninth?" Iemitsu asked, persistent.

Timoteo frowned deeply. "I may not be able to give you an answer now, but I _will _give an answer."

Iemitsu repressed the scowl coming up, opting to nod politely and excuse himself from the office.

"You go too, Fre." Timoteo sighed tiredly. "Don't tell Gioia about this." He paused. "On second thought, don't tell anyone. Enrico would have Iemitsu's head if he knew." He sighed again.

Federico looked on worriedly, but exited the room with a nod and a "don't worry and relax, dad".

Timoteo frowned after the door clicked shut, and reached for the report on the table. Printed in bold at the first page –

**Proposal for Gioia del Vongola's Replacement of the Late Sun Guardian of CEDEF's Team and Strategist of the Vongola Famiglia: Ysabelle del Vongola**_  
_  
He slammed the report shut, and buzzed the intercom for his right-hand man to come in.

Today was _not_ a good day for one Timoteo del Vongola.

* * *

I pushed down my laptop screen (got it from Nonno! He said something about Fre's birthday wish when I was really young, which I think I vaguely remember), shutting it with a click. I smiled, satisfied, and turned to scoop Jubii up from her little basket, quickly running outside to the corridor.

Two lefts and three rights down, I reached an empty corridor, where a lone window was the only focus of decoration on the whole stretch of wall.

I quickly ran towards it, and lifted it up, using as much strength as a four years old can muster. As soon as the heavy window budged and lifted, Jubii jumped out in the open, and I let go of the window, letting it fall back down with a thump, already feeling the slight soreness in my arms.

I blinked when I saw Jubii still outside, fluttering about the window.

Right... the code.

I tapped a few times on the window glass in Morse code, and the bird chirped and flew away.

To room D-1-3-5-5, where Master is waiting for the new piece of information on the Carcassa famiglia.

I skipped my way back to my room after making sure no one saw me.

Nonno knows that I will be working for Master, but he doesn't know how much I am helping Master. Just for this little while, he doesn't need to know... (No, definitely not. He doesn't need to know I've been hacking into other bases and bought five and a half tomatoes before I learned the art of hacking.)

No, it will be fine for now, I hope.

I hope, because even numbers can only bring me so far.

* * *

I love numbers.

Every movement, every reason, every logic, every law, every rule, everything... Numbers can be put to them. I can see them; the numbers. Not literally, but in my mind. They are always there, drifting back and forth, forming a line of seeming nonsensical long string of randomness...

But it makes sense to me.

That, is the speed of the wind. That other string of numbers in the angle of elevation of the nest on the tree from the estate's fourth floor's third window. The other string of numbers is the average speed of Enrico's pacing. That other string is the velocity of his swinging arms...

Everything. Numbers can be put to everything. They think I can predict the future.

But I can't.

I may be able to put numbers to everything. I may know the exact speed of the wind at the moment, and how it might change in the next few seconds. I may be able to calculate when a person will reach the first floor from the fourth floor of the estate. But...

They are not always correct.

I am a perfectionist. I like feeling secure and confident. But security comes at a high cost... Security was never available to Juliette, but now it is at every turning corner for Gioia. I suppose that's how I was spurred in my fierce pursuit of knowledge as Juliette. Everything I do, everything he do, everything they do... I need an exact outcome. I need to know...what will happen.

I need to know, to survive. Because surviving, self-preservation, is a way of human, a natural instinct of humans.

And I am not supposed to fight it off.

So I found a way to survive; I found numbers.

To put numbers to everything, to see the way of everything, to see how something can turn out to be...

But there are countless possibilities to one thing. While chatting with someone, there is a certain percentage of chance that an atomic bomb will land on that someone. There is a 0% chance of survival after that. But again, there is a 25% chance of another person joining the conversation in the next minute, taking into consideration the number of people in the vicinity, the professions of them, their positions, their profile, their speed of walking, their schedule, their degree of trust in the someone... There are so, so, so many things to think about.

But it is possible to know who has the highest chance of being in the 25%.

It is possible, because as long as there is a way out using numbers...

But then again, there is always a 0.1% chance of getting it wrong, out of the 100% of the possibilities of getting it right. No matter how much data someone gathered, there is always a chance that it will go wrong.

And it is because of that 0.1%, that I always seek for a better future, a change that can change everything for the better, or also, known as a miracle.

Because we never know how dangerous that 0.1% is, because that 0.1% might be the detail to get someone down, because in the end...

Numbers aren't everything.

Numbers aren't everything, that's why... I became Gioia.

Really, whoever said I can calculate everything and predict the damn future?

I can't even predict Mama's death... Enrico, Massimo and Fre's supposed upcoming deaths...

Numbers...aren't everything, no matter how much I want them to be.

It's just another hopeful thing, I guess.

Numbers, to Gioia del Vongola...

May be everything.

Numbers, to Juliette Williams...

May be her world.

I say I am Gioia now. But then, who is Juliette?

Maybe that's the similarity that chains both identities.

I can never be Gioia fully, and I can never be Juliette fully again as well. The only thing similar to them is their fear of needles and love for numbers.

And maybe the want for numbers to dominate everything as well.

* * *

I held the book in my shuddering hands.

_What...is this?_

I swallowed, and exhaled.

Gioia del Vongola...was never supposed to survive. She was supposed to die, die at birth. (No no no, I could have never calculated that.) No, there is not a chance that she is alive. No, not even across parallel universes. She isn't supposed to exist. That's why no history books in the thirtieth century ever recorded her – nothing was mentioned about her.

_No_, Gioia del Vongola was never supposed to be born.

I clenched my teeth.

I raised a hand to wipe the cold sweat off my forehead, eyes still wide and staring at the family tree printed neatly on the large book. I let out a silent squeak, as if suddenly realising the extent of the situation, and quickly dropped the book on the table.

At the bottom of the tree, in black and a beautiful cursive: '_Gioia del Vongola_'. Linking up, '_Ysabelle del Vongola_'...(my...mother?) In bracket...well, some foreign character. ...Japanese? (What is more curious is not the Japanese name, it's the absence of a father. What if it's some thug mama met on the streets? /WhatthehellGioiafocus-)

Then again...

Skipping through all the way up to the top of the family tree...

In bold cursive... '_**Talbot**_'.

I felt sick to my stomach. Is this the 'Talbot' recorded in history, the legendary inventor...?

_No no, no. W-Where is Nonno? Why is Enrico and Fre and Massimo not here? B-but Mama is...is related to them... H-how? What is this? What _is _this? Talbot..._

My breathing became erratic, and I clutched my chest. No, _no_. I may not have gotten a control or grasp on my Sun flames yet, but I should be able to do the least – control my breathing.

_Hold it hold it hold it hold it in Gioia._

_Where is my father in all of this?_

I instantly felt shame and guilt when the question penetrated my hazy mind, but –

So many many many questions.

I tore out the two pages and snapped the book shut (ignoring how the book belonged to Massimo's personal library, in which I sneaked in an hour prior). Unwilling to look at the book any longer, I pushed it under my bed and folded the two pages up. Stuffing them in my pocket, I quickly rushed out of the room.

_Nonno. Nonno will have answers. He will definitely have answers. Answers answers answers Kawahira might have answers. Yes yes yes get a grip._

I rushed past Massimo (who gave me a quizzical look) to Nonno's office.

One more corner.

I knocked hurriedly, and ran in the moment I heard 'Come – ' (yes, I didn't let Nonno finish what he was about to say).

Quickly pushing the oak door close behind me, I turned my wide eyes to Nonno. I must have held a crazed look in my eyes, my hair messy and my breathing erratic.

But none of that mattered.

I walked up bravely, casting a glance around to see if anyone else was in the dim office.

No one else.

"Yes, Gioia? You look tired, what happened?" He asked in a grandfatherly tone, and I suddenly feel a lump in my throat.

Swallowing a few times to gather my bearings, I clenched my fists.

Mustering as much courage a four-years-old can gather, I opened my mouth.

"Nonno..." I started carefully. "Are you... I-Is Nonno...my real grandfather?"

* * *

**A/N: /gasps/ What did Gioia find?**

**So maybe some of you are wondering what is the difference between 'masking presence' and 'turning invisible to naked eye', two things which Gioia learned to do with Mist flames.**

**'Masking presence' means she is still visible and all, but people won't really notice her or give her attention. They are not aware she is there, maybe a little, but they won't direct attention to it because the ability essentially allows her to direct attention away from herself, thus called the masking of presence.**

**'Turning invisible to naked eye' is pretty self-explanatory. People cannot see her, she is not there. Maybe it will be possible to sense her, but only if you know what you are looking for. I said 'naked eye', because it isn't entirely impossible to see her. You'll just have to see what enables people to see through this ability.**

**Oh well! Today seem to be the day of 'lengthy author's note'. Sorry!**

**Also, can you guys please tell me if Gioia is too strong /indecisive /clever /marysue or whatever? I need you guys to feedback how Gioia is so I can improve on it, and take note of it in the future! Please help me (and Gioia), thank you.**

**If possible, please answer these questions, supporters!**

**1. Do you want romance/pairing for Gioia in the story?**

**2. Is Gioia too (see the paragraph above)?**

**3. What can I improve on for Change? (Grammar, range of vocabulary, more humor, more Fre/Massimo/Enrico, more of the dark side of Mafia, more emphasis of Gio, more screentime for Juliette's time?)**

**4. What kind of family-bonding activities do you want to see? (I'll try to put them in.)**

**5. Is the pace of the story too fast/slow? (Gioia is four years old now.)**

**Reviews are lovely!****  
**

**- Dooruuucheee.**


	20. Chapter 16: Memories

**A/N: Hi! Another chapter. :) I just feel guilty because I probably won't be updating much for the next few weeks due to my exams. So, here's the...third update of the week. I think? Second? Haha XD**

**Well, moving on to good news - we are reaching 130 followers and 80 reviews soon! XD**

**Let's hope to reach 110 favourites/130 followers soon! Cheers! X3**

**Changed the cover to fit how Gioia looks now. Hope it looks acceptable haha. xD Disclaimer, that cute picture as a cover is made by a website called dreamself. **

**Warning: Grammatical mistakes, sentence structural errors. Not edited by my editor.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn, all rights goes to Amano Akira.**

**Do read the author's note below if you are confused about this chapter. I hope that could explain...most of it. :)**

**Anyway, I added more arts in my DeviantART account (link on my profile), and if you want to check out what any important character look like, do browse it for a moment! I currently have the three brothers, Juliette, Julius, Gioia, Delta...and well, you'll have to check it out yourself. Should I make Evan next? Haha. XD**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

In all honesty, Timoteo wasn't surprised when his four-years-old grandniece rushed in his office and ask him The Question.

As in, whether Timoteo was her real grandfather. But... Timoteo refrained from choking on air as Gioia flattened the two yellowed pages on his coffee table.

"Where..." Timoteo coughed to get the hoarseness out. "Where did you find those, Gioia?" The little girl pressed her lips together and hopped onto the couch.

"Massimo's library." The girl replied, and licked her lips nervously. "Nonno... You haven't answered me."

Right.

"...Biologically, no." Timoteo answered regretfully.

The girl sucked in a breath, her hands clenching into fists. Tears sprung to her eyes, and Timoteo refrained from reaching a hand out to wipe it away.

_She needs to know. She is old enough to know._

"So... Enrico, Massimo... Fre?"

"They are not your true biological brothers by blood, but... Gioia, does it really matter? Being linked by blood." Timoteo said soothingly.

The girl swallowed, then shook her head, adamantly looking straight and visibly holding back her tears.

"It..." She choked on her words. _Was the truth too much for her?_ "It doesn't matter, Nonno. I will always treat them as like my blood brothers, even closer. It really doesn't matter." She took a deep breath, her cloudy emerald eyes clearing up a little.

Timoteo patted her head, as she turned her eyes to the two torn out pieces of paper.

"My...mother." She started slowly.

_She isn't ready._

"I can't tell you much about that yet, Gioia."

The black-haired girl snapped her gaze to Timoteo. "Why, Nonno?"

The Vongola Ninth smiled.

"Not yet, my dear. I would tell you when you are older. That's your mother's wish – for you to know only when you are older, sweetie."

Gioia frowned, but didn't object. "I... I would respect the dead's wishes." She murmured, and Timoteo was stunned momentarily by a sudden wave of deja-vu.

_"...I see. On a hit-man's honour, I shall respect the dead's wishes." He tipped his hat, and walked off._

Timoteo allowed a bitter smile to cross his features._ Just like her father._ "You would certainly. Come now, Gioia. You must be tired. The family tree... Don't think too much about it. Keep it – I shall tell you more about it when the time is near."

Mentally exhausted, the girl gathered the two pieces of paper, bowed, then quickly exited the room.

No customary hug.

_Let her be... She must be in a bit of shock, after all._ Timoteo look wistfully at the back view of his grandniece. Suddenly, blond replaced the black, and he quickly blinked to get the image out.

_Don't...live in the past. Focus on the present and beware the future._

* * *

Reborn gritted his teeth, pushing away the urge to slam his fist on the table.

Nothing. Nothing. _Nothing_.

He came up with nothing again.

Again. Again. _And again._

Reborn's lips twisted into an angry snarl, and he slapped down a crumpled photo on the desk, the lines and creases no doubt from the strength he exerted while holding onto it.

A man with a fedora on his head, his arms circling possessively around a woman's waist. The woman's face, flushed and in mid-laugh, her emerald eyes twinkling in amusement. The man smirking down at her.

All frozen, captured on a camera.

Reborn's muscles tensed as he heard footsteps. He cocked his gun, beckoning for Leon to gather all the documents.

"...Reborn? It's me." Reborn did not let go of his tense posture.

"...Come in."

Evan entered silently, and closed the door with a click.

"Hey - " The doctor stopped in his steps as a gun met his forehead.

"Tell me." Reborn growled. "Tell me all that you know about Ysabelle. _Now._" He adjusted his gun. "Or I won't hesitate in putting a bullet through you, Evan di Caprio!"

Evan turned deathly calm eyes to meet the infant's dark ones.

"Stop, Reborn. This is not like you." Reborn gripped his gun tightly.

Indeed, this was not like him.

But he was desperate. Desperate to find _anything_. Anything at all, in relation to his late lover. Getting attached to someone was a taboo for a hit-man such as himself, but he had allowed himself to fall. Fall for someone who was strong.

But she was not strong enough. No, she cannot be strong enough if she had _died_.

Calling her personal doctor to a secluded area in the outskirts of an abandoned town had seem like a good choice at the time.

This was not like him, in the end.

Reborn forced himself to put his gun down, and Leon ran up to him and perched himself on his fedora. The familiar weight on his head calmed him down a little.

Evan relaxed slightly.

"No hard feelings on that, Reborn. I know you had your reasons."

Reborn hated the sympathy underlying his words. No, no, _no_.

No one could understand.

No one _should_ understand.

He definitely did _not_ need, or want sympathy.

"I...can't tell you much." Evan chose his words carefully, knowing that he was treading dangerous waters.

Seeing the threatening glint of the gun Reborn was holding, the ex-hit-man sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

"Omertà, Reborn." Reborn narrowed his eyes, waves of anger rolling off him. But he knew better. He knew better than to ask_ who_, because it was customary for the silent vow's instigator be kept secret too.

Evan frowned, feeling a slight twinge of pity for the infant as he glanced at the pile of papers – and a crumpled photo – on a dusty desk at the side.

"But I'll tell you as much as I can, Reborn."

* * *

I raised an eyebrow, and looked around.

"Uncle Kawahira? Kaaawahiiiiraaa? Old geezer Kawahira? Checkerface? Iron Haaaaat?" I drawled, walking around the bridge.

I sighed. So he was not here. Well, that's understandable. Uncle Kawahira usually only appeared when I went to sleep at night, and he couldn't possibly know that I was going to take a nap today.

I shrugged, and lolled my head. Oh well.

After...the small little questioning session I had with Nonno, I went for a nap to rest up. Questions were still flying about in my mind, but... But Nonno told me will answer me one day.

But really.

So many questions, so little answers.

Who is my father? Who is my mother? What was mother like? Why did the family tree (which I stuffed into my drawer, too afraid of taking a good look at it) look so complicated? Mama had a... Japanese name? (Please don't let it be another complicated shit thing again.)

He will tell me soon. Nonno... I trust Nonno, because I believe he wouldn't...hide anything from me.

Yes. He wouldn't.

But...my mother. Mama... If it is her wish for it to be this way, then I will do it.

Because I owe her too much. Too much...

Oh well... I may be a little upset that Nonno, Enrico, Massimo and Fre are not biological related to me, but Nonno had promised me to talk about my family next time when I am older... So there was no point thinking about it (I think I should try cracking that Japanese side of the family tree... I should tell Moretti then).

I let out an exaggerated breath and turned one round, my eyes catching sight of the left end of the bridge. An idea started forming in my head.

Right, I have never really gotten the chance to...explore my mind, right? (Sounds wrong...) I frowned at the dark end of the bridge, where some parts of the pavement were cracked, like an earthquake had happened only around that area, since where I am standing, the pavement was perfectly fine.

That end of the bridge seem damaged, dark and dim, like the sunlight couldn't reach it. The road was charred too.

I frowned, and walked towards it.

If I am not wrong – if the classes Moretti gave me about deciphering Realms are true, then...

Then this part of the bridge will represent my past.

I gulped, and stepped past the boundary and into the dark part of the bridge. An ominous wave washed over me instantly, and I gasped, falling on the rough concrete.

The moment my hands came in contact with the cracked road, everything in sight turned into a swirly mess of colours.

* * *

"Well..." Moretti coughed awkwardly. "This...is quite the peculiar group you have gathered, Ninth."

Timoteo raised an eyebrow, shifting to make himself (more) comfortable on the plush chair he is sitting on by the head of the table.

"Is that so? I do believe all of you have something in common."

Moretti shifted his glance to the infant sitting opposite of him, then to the infant sitting diagonally opposite of him.

"..." Lal's passive stare never did cease.

(Moretti refused to think that he had something similar with the brute lady – er, infant over there. No, no, _no_, it just can't work. And what kind of relation can he have with two Arcobaleno?! Moretti mourned. He was just a normal person – a little special maybe because of his position as the Cloud guardian of Iemitsu, but he didn't_ deserve_ this.)

"I believe we are the brat's instructors, that's why." Mammon grumbled out, always the one to get straight to the point.

Lal's eye twitched, and she leaned back in her seat. "What did the brat do now?" Right, the 'brat', as referred to _affectionately_ by her instructors, is a well-known troublemaker.

Or maybe trouble just seek her.

Timoteo shrugged. "Evan should have been here, but he said he had something on, so I am going to start now."

Lal twitched at the thought of the perverted doctor, and reached out to receive a folder from Coyote.

"Please do look through the documents encased. We shall discuss what is to be done after that." Timoteo said, and gave a nod to Coyote after he finished distributing the files.

Moretti's muscle twitched when he saw the report. A well-written, nicely-phrased report by the one who was supposed to be present but is not.

He glanced over the charts and graphs a few pages down, and let out an irritated sigh. Quite similarly, he heard the infant opposite of him let out a grimace, with the familiar gesture of her hands going to her rifle, but not quite reaching.

Maybe they had something in common after all.

"I would assume all of you knows what this means. If this carries on, none of you will have a student any more."

Moretti wanted to let loose a sarcastic comment such as "I would be relieved to be rid of this joke of a student", but found out he couldn't as he thought of the bright beam not-too-often sent his way.

He let out a frustrated growl inwardly.

He could sense Mammon doing the same as well, as the infant flicked the folder away from her.

A slightly exasperated smile graced Timoteo's features.

"What you have just gone through is Gioia's most recent health report. Since all of you here present are the ones who knows her best out of her immediate family, I ask for your assistance to think of a way to stop her reckless thinking and plans, perhaps even try adapting to a more refined way of expressing her thoughts."

The first thing Moretti thought of was to throw the girl from the roof on a bungee jump without ropes, but decided to bite his tongue to keep from offending her grandfather.

Or granduncle, whichever.

"I say she should get more training, since she has so much time to do pointless things to risk her health." The former instructor of COMSUBIN grumbled.

"No. She has potential – I say she must practice more and earn more money (so that she can clear her debt with me). That is more productive than going for some training. She doesn't have the health to hold out for those trainings anyway." Mammon did her royal holier-than-thou sniff, and Lal gritted her teeth.

Timoteo looked at him questioningly, and he quickly realised he was the only one who has not give his opinion.

He resisted the urge to say his previous thought of sending the powerful man's grandniece on a bungee jump. Without a rope.

"Oh... Er..." He stuttered, suddenly at a loss for words.

_Think think think! What would Gioia like – no, what would she not like? What would she not like yet would garner the favors and approval of her family?_

An idea popped into his head, and a sheepish grin went on his face.

"Well, Ninth, I was thinking that since you want Gioia to be more refined and...perhaps ladylike..."

Timoteo's eyebrow slowly rose what Moretti suggested.

He gave a chuckle and a nod of approval.

Moretti felt victorious for a second, before Lal and Mammon glared at him and he started sweating buckets.

_Oh er wait – don't touch your gun don't Lal don't – _

Maybe he should kick one of those buckets before Lal get to him.

* * *

_"They...have such a strong bond. I am not jealous..." The blond girl laid back on her back, the book laying forgotten beside her._

_"I guess I can say... I am envious?" A wistful smile came upon her face._

_"It's not like this can ever happen to me, after all."_

What... What is this? That girl...

Who is she?

She looks...familiar.

_"I hate this series...so much."_

_It was at a roof of some building – or maybe house, again._

_The girl was there again, and tears dotted her cheeks._

_"Why...? I – I just... I want a family..."__  
_  
I jerked, my eyes wide.

This was...

Me.

_"Sawada Tsunayoshi, huh... Such a lucky guy..." A bright smile came upon her face._

_"Perhaps, if I tried to pretend I was him, I'll be able to... To feel what it felt like to have a real family. Maybe it'll make days more bearable._

_"__She had said hopefully to herself._

She is me.

_Me me me me mememe._

Juliette Williams – no. No no no.

Juliette... Hayes...(?)

Why... Hayes?

Who... I was before...?

_The scene had changed. _

_It was no longer on a roof - now it was in a large room with high ceilings and books filling every inch of the bookshelf lining the walls._

_A huge sign with "T's Book store" hung proudly from the ceiling._

_"This... A new manga-lised series of history ten centuries back?! I – I want it..." The girl deflated slightly as she stared at the first volume of a manga, with the cover being a baby wearing a suit and holding a gun._

_"It's even about the 'Mafia' that existed ten centuries back – organised crime syndicates." The hazel-eyed girl frowned._

_"No. I shouldn't...indulge in these thi – "__"Do you want it?" She jerked, and dropped the book in her hands._

_"W – What..." Turning her shock eyes to the old man in front of her, she let a small, awkward smile grace her features._

_Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she quickly picked up the book and dusted it._

_"Sorry, I can't...er, I can't afford it. I – I don't...have a card." A card, for purchasing of items, and to children who are of age three to eighteen, they would need parental approval for them to apply for a card._

_But she was not a true Williams. Neither was she someone the Williams would stand up for._

_The old man chuckled. "Well, I'll give it to you then, child." He looked really old now that the girl took a closer look – very hunched back, scrawny and bony fingers, and wrinkled skin so papery and creased._

_"A – Ah... Thank you, but... I can't accept your good will, uncle." It did not take very long for the smart girl to connect the dots – this was T, the owner of the book store. An apologetic smile went on her face._

_The old man shook his head._

_"Nonsense! I will not have any of that, young lady. Take the entire series as a gift from an old man to you, someone of the younger generation. It always pleases me to have young people like you in knowing about history, especially history ten centuries back, where humans still had computers and CD players."_

_The blond girl blinked, then smiled gratefully.__"Thank you, uncle. But, I would not be able to bring all of it home, so do you mind if I only bring one at a time?"_

_The old man chuckled, his voice raspy. "Of course, go ahead. Come by any time, young lass. Ah, you really remind me of someone I used to know..." A mysterious wistful smile came upon the old man's wrinkled, bandaged face._

_The girl blinked questioningly.__"Old times, old times... You wouldn't want to hear an old man rambling. Besides, you have a curfew, right?" Her eyes widened as she glanced at the clock._

_She hurriedly bowed with a mumbled apology and gratitude, before rushing out of the huge book store._

_"Really, so much like Y - "__  
_  
I flinched at the assault of memories, and tears were forced to my eyes.

What... is this? What _i__s _this?

Juliette. What Juliette remembered.

From the most recent, to her furthest memory back.

To _my_ first memory back. I am watching things on reverse –

On reverse. From when I loved the series, to when I tried to hate the series due to my own circumstances, to when I first found the book.

The old man – T.

Who...was he?

I couldn't find an answer, as another wave of memories hit me again.

_Screams echoed, the familiar blond girl's not being an exception._

_"Hmm... Tick the second box, Julius. This medicine works. We will have to pick some of them next, to see whether test tube 04 works for genetic alteration. Which of you girls had been labelled as 'to be condemned' by Azurite last night?" He had asked, almost teasingly, because he knows, we _know_, that he can always access the report and the list of people from the blasted machine (which he lovingly named Azurite) any time._

_She panted as the electricity sparked off of her fingertips. A pounding headache assaulted her, and she gritted her teeth to hold in a wince, trying not to draw attention to herself. Her entire body felt like it was on fire – __and not the kind of pleasant adrenaline rush, this was raw, untouched, rough and _pain pain pain_._

_She was not labelled as a 'to be condemned'._

_A mixed feeling of guilt and relief seeped into her mind, but pain was never one to leave her alone._

It hurts it hurts it hurts I can't I feel numb numb numb numb.

_"Answer me!" The mad scientist slammed his fist on a table, and most of the girls flinched._

_Some timidly raised their hands, and the scientist smirked, a dark look coming over his features._

_"Julius, bring them to lab D12, and tell your mother to carry out operation A47 on those girls."_

_A breath got caught in the blond girl's throat, and she heard the other girls who were panting, crying, screaming from the pain that was inflicted on them and was _going to be_ inflicted onto them_

_And she_

_Can't_

_Breathe._

_'__A', meaning there was no __anaesthetic__ to be assigned to the experiments. (_Pain pain pain_, no illusion of lesser pain, _pain pain pain_) 47, meaning...__The removal of pancreas and gall bladders._

_Humans couldn't survive without them – they are going to get k_illed killed killed killed ohlordnonono –

_The girl tried not to gag, and suppressed the nasty taste in her mouth. The pounding headache did nothing much to lighten her mood. She tried to force down yesterday's dinner, that being her last meal since this night. A nauseating feeling seized her stomach and she resisted the urge to hurl everything (yet nothing) out of her stomach._

Without _anaesthetic._

_They will die of pain and torture first._

_"Ah... Save their limbs too, it might be of use for experiment Z12. And sell off their organs, they are in high demand nowadays. Do leave a pair of lungs for experiment W19. Tell your mother she can do anything with their hair and eyes." _

_She struggled to force the next words of the professor into her hazy mind, and she distinctively heard the sound of someone puking. The pungent smell reached her nose, mixed with sweat and dust and charred flesh lingering in the air._

_A lump formed in her throat, and tears were forced to her eyes._

_Her friends, again and again and again and _again again again_._

_"You girls were naughty just now, not answering my question at the first call." A sadistic smirk went on the scientist's face. "Get robots E23 to 35, and subject the positively-marked girls to action T02 for a week. Also, I expect the pancreas and gall bladders in the fridge by then, Julius."_

_A breath got caught in the blond girl's throat, and she heard the other girls who were panting, crying, screaming from the pain, from their awaiting _destiny_ – _No no no.

_The blond girl choked back on a sob._

They were going to die die die die die. They were going to die. Again again again because her friends always die die die die from torture and pain pain pain and they never come back from the laboratory and even this experiment of wiring and electricity she can smell the burnt flesh the charred hospital gowns and singed hair of the girls no no no no - _Why was it always them, not her?_

_If this was some cruel joke, please let it end soon._

_..._

It never did.

I screamed, grabbing and clawing at my skin, clothes, hair, everything I could feel and _the sensations the feelings the touch the smell the taste of blood the feelings the clenching of my heart it hurts hurts hurts hurts_.

It _hurts._

I felt hot tears flow down my cheeks, and my movements slowed. I sobbed pathetically, just a curled up form on the rough concrete.

Where am I?

My heart is pounding. The adrenaline rush from before leaving me wasted and broken.

I don't remember any more.

Let me out. _Out out out._

I am just running away.

I know I know I_ know._

But...

_Do I not have the right to run away after all this?_

* * *

So long.

I spent so, so long to push all those to the back of my mind.

They are all resurfacing now, one by one.

They? Those? What are they? What are those?

Memories...?

Haha...Haha! Memories? The mental faculty or capacity of retaining and reviving facts, events, impressions, or of recalling or recognising previous experiences... Remembrance. Commemoration.

If a 'memory' was so simple, what right does it have to control me_ now?_

_It doesn't._

_It was always a part of you._

_There was never an escape because those memories are _yours_. Yours and yours only._

_They don't have to control you _now_._

_They already control you - your actions, your words, your_ everything.

No.

_No._

I don't want to see this any more.

But I seem to be stuck in a loop, going round and round and round and round and round and round round round _and round_ -

Except I am not.

I am not stuck in a loop.

I am not stuck in a loop of never ending memories onslaught – no. I am stuck in a loop of myself.

Myself.

Everything has been_ me me me me_.

And that was foolish of me.

I claimed that I cared for everyone here, I loved everyone here, they are the people I would sacrifice my life for in a heartbeat –

Those were true.

But it's a necessity.

I felt that it was a necessity to feel that way. Deep deep deep deep _deep_ inside, I know that...

There's this selfish, insensitive, uncaring bit of me, who says she wants to live live live live hope hope hope hope survive survive survive and survive.

I love everyone and I would sacrifice my life in a heartbeat for them.

Would I?

I will.

...Will it be from the bottom of my heart?

No.

Never, because humans will always, always always always have this sense of survival in them – the sense of self-preservation and no one can be truly, truly abnegation no matter what.

No one.

I am just a selfish, selfish selfish selfish girl, looking for change in a hopeless world.

A girl who thought she had nothing, and lost everything, then found something, and gained everything she could ever hope for.

And she would fight tooth and nail for that stupid stupid stupid 'everything' she owed, because to her –

To me.

To me, that 'everything' will be the thing I had always wanted the most.

I would cling to them, hug them, hold them so tight tight tight that I would never let go –

Because I will always, always have that hope that...

Everything will be okay.

Everything will be better.

My 'everything' – they wouldn't leave me (no no no, don't leave me).

Because as much as I love them (so, so much)...

Disappointment...

Will never turn away from my door.

* * *

Ganauche sighed as he entered his boss' grandniece's room.

He had been informed that he was to seal the girl's Lightning flames, and preferably while she's asleep so that she does not throw a fit (_everyon__e_ knew her fit, it got her an entire floor as her library after all).

The girl was sleeping, as what Coyote had told him of. Ganauche ran a hand through his hair, hoping to get it done as soon as possible because _heck_, Gioia was his favourite child around.

Enrico was a brat when he was young, Massimo was such a bookworm and refused to game with an 'old man', as he had called Ganauche one time, and young Federico was too bright and sunny for him.

Gioia was the perfect balance, and heck yeah, she had _Lightning _flames.

Anyone who had Lightning flames means they have enough guts and swag to pull everything off.

But he's told to seal them off, because apparently Gioia's not-so-strong body can't take the flame waves.

_Fine._

Ganauche walked to her bedside, and shut his eyes in concentration as he put a finger to the girl's forehead.

Lightning flames sparked from his fingertip, and he felt it – the lock clicking in place.

She would not be able to use her Lightning flames any more.

Not that she knew how to.

Ganauche shrugged, and was about to head back, until he felt that his finger was cold and watery. Sweat, maybe?

He checked the heater and air-conditioner. They were working fine. He quirk an eyebrow, and turned back to look at the young girl in bed – and he took a good look.

Her eyebrows were furrowed and creased, a deep frown etched on her face, and she looked as if she is having a _really bad dream._

Ganauche felt concern rising in him as he realised his favourite child in the Vongola was sweating cold sweat.

He thinned his lips, and tore his eyes away from the girl.

She can handle herself.

It's just a bad dream – she has to learn. This is the Mafia.

With his concern pushed to the back of his mind, he stalked out of the room, making sure to close the door softly and _get the hell out of that Wing_ because he might get the guilty urge to wake her up.

_She needs to face her fears_, that's what Ganauche thought.

If only he knew what fears they were.

If only he realised...

She was still just a little girl no matter how old she acted.

That fears were still too much for her. Especially fears from her past.

But he wouldn't know, of course.

She wouldn't let anybody know.

No one. No one should deserve to know about this, after all...

Not because they were not worthy, but because she was too unworthy.

If only...

If only she knew that how everyone felt was so contrasting to hers, she might not feel so alone in facing her past.

If only, indeed.

* * *

Drained.

Beat. Burned out. Depleted. Spent. Effete. Worn out. Exhausted. Enervated. Devitalised.

Tired.

My limbs feel heavy, my mind feels clouded – it's hard. Hard hard hard to move.

But just a little bit more.

I can feel it.

Just a little, little bit more, and I can get to the end of this.

Hope. Hope ignited within me again. Hope is _burning_ within me. Hope hope hope.

_Hope._

This place was dark. Dark, spooky, almost as if the shadows are moving.

The dark was moving.

A glint of silver in front of me. A chain.

A chain and lock. No, chains and locks. Only one lock looked untouched of the two large locks. The chains and locks – they are bound to a pillar in front of me. The broken lock had wisps of Mist flames surrounding it, the chains look rusty and worn-out. The remaining good lock looks dirty and untouched.

If it would get me out...

If this would end the torturous road down memory lane...

I raised a hand.

As soon as my fingertip touched the unbroken lock, a clatter of chains and a crack sounded.

The lock burst into bright yellow flames, and the darkness enveloping me collapsed.

The darkness _collapsed._

* * *

_"I won't forget any of you. I will come back to The Slums one day. That bastard Williams won't get to me."_

They became empty promises.

Empty empty empty.

_"Come back soon, Juliette."_

_"I will, Delta."_

Lies lies lies.

_"Forget, Juliette Hayes, because from now on, you are just a marionette manipulated by me."_

I don't want to forget – don't make me forget but I forgot forgot forgot.  
_  
__"Your name is Juliette Williams."_

No no no. Lies lies lies. My name is not Williams. No no no.

But I didn't know it was a lie.

Juliette Hayes. Hayes Hayes Hayes.

But I was selfish.

So then I wasn't a Hayes anymore.

_"You fell down the stairs and lost your memories."_

I believed, I believed, I believed.

Now I don't, because 'believed' is in past tense.

_"You will be helping daddy with lab work."_

No one is going to help him with his shitty lab work, because no no no, I am not Juliette Williams, neither am I Juliette Hayes any more.

I am Gioia del Vongola, because of my selfishness.

Because I feared, because I wasn't selfless.

Because I was no one in the end – no one anyone should remember, no one anyone deserved to know because I was unworthy and my sense of self-preservation is a _danger_ to those around me.

I am a selfish, selfish, selfish...

Fearful girl.

I am so human-like, so much so much, it scares me.

So much.

Who am I?

Who...am I?

Juliette. Juliette Williams?

No.

Juliette... Hayes?

...No.

_Then who? Who are you?_

Who? Who am I? Who _am_ I?

I am not Juliette Williams, neither am I Juliette Hayes.

I... am Gioia.

Gioia... del Vongola. Where my selfishness and fears and hope had brought me to.

* * *

_It has been said, 'time heals all wounds'. I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time, the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissues and the pain lessens. But it is never gone._

_It is never gone._

* * *

**A/N: Yes I am so sorry so so so sorry I am a mean person yes yes you – no no, don't – why are you picking that stone up - /runs/ nooooo!**

**No, actually, I don't feel the least bit apologetic. This chapter turned out the way I wanted. I just want to express how Gioia's life was like as Juliette, and how she remained hopeful throughout and her theory and thoughts on humans – ****Well, if I said anything more, you readers might pelt me with stones. (Or maybe you guys are already doing it /sobs/)**

**Cause I am /so/ mean to Gioia.**

**If you are wondering about the repeated words and broken sentences, they are just exact word for word how Gioia is thinking. That's because she is in a distraught state and her thoughts are messy and repetitive and she can't think straight. She has to repeat a word many times to get it in her of what she's thinking. As most of you may have realised, she is a systematic person who relies on logic 99.9% of the time, so she organises her thoughts in a similarly logical, **_**perfect**_** rows and...**

**Everything just has to be in neat rows and columns, and organised and easy to sort out.**

**But her plan to organise her thoughts obviously wasn't working since she can't even think up of curses.**

**Question: What do you think of the revelation of Juliette's life? Was it too sudden and abrupt? What do you think Timoteo, Moretti, Lal and Mammon were talking about and what was Moretti's idea? Make a guess on who T is! He's in the series :3 The one who gets it correct first gets an extra dedicated to them!**

**Reviews are lovely and fantastic :)****  
**


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